First in the Field Part 47

"Ah, you may well say that, sir: some was shot down by the soldiers, some was killed by the natives, some was lost in the bush and died o'

hunger and thirst, while the blacks speared the rest all but one, and he gave himself up. They do a lot o' mischief, these chaps, when they take to the bush, sir; but, fortunately for honest folk, they all come to a bad end."

Then came a more leisure time, when old Samson took a holiday, as he called it--that is to say, he worked from daylight to darkness over his rather neglected garden; while Nic had leisure to think again of his natural history specimens, and went out with his gun; but he did not feel at all keen about sitting down in a woody place near the river to fish and offer himself as a mark for any black who meant to practise hurling his spear. It was so much more satisfactory to mount Sour Sorrel and ride off, gun in hand, through the open woodland with the soft breeze sweeping by his cheek, and pick up a beautifully feathered bird from time to time.

The injured sheep had grown quite well, and, save that it limped as it grazed, its leg was as strong as ever; "and that lameness does not interfere with its promising to be a good mother," said the doctor, smiling, as he pointed to the pair of white lambs gambolling by the lame sheep's side.

"Did you ever satisfy yourself as to how its leg was broken?" said Nic.

"No, my boy; and I did not want to. I have my suspicions, but I let them rest. It is the same at most of the stations--the free men dislike the bond. It is natural. And now that things are going on peaceably, we will let them rest."

One day, quite by accident, the boy found himself thrown in contact again with Leather, whose brown, deeply lined countenance always brightened when Nic came across him somewhere with his sheep.

"I say, Leather," he said, as he sat on his nag watching the man busily carving a stick he had cut: "you remember telling me about how the blacks followed the bees?"

"Yes, sir."

"Can you show me?"

"Yes," said Leather, smiling sadly; and he looked about till he found a tree with some of its seed-vessels full of fine silky cotton, smeared one end of a twig with a bead of gum from another tree, and then walked on, followed by Nic, till they came to a patch of bushes, whose fragrant blossoms had attracted the bees by the dozen.

One pollen-laden fellow was soon caught, the gum stick touched its back, the white cotton was brought in contact, and the uninjured insect set free.

Up in the air it went at once, regardless of the yellow flowers among which it had been buzzing, and then flew away in a straight line, with its white patch on its back, to be traced some forty or fifty yards, before it disappeared among the trees.

"Gone!" said Nic, who was in advance, for he had followed the insect on horseback. "Think there's a tree here?"

"No; these are not the kind of trees they nest in. They do not go hollow."

"What will you do, then?"

"Repeat the process, sir."

And this was done four times, till the last bee was traced to a quarter of a mile from where they started, and a tiny hole was made out sixty feet from the ground, about which scores of little dark insects could be seen darting.

"Now how to get the honey?" said Nic.

"Send or bring Bungarolo here to-morrow with an axe and a bucket, and you shall have plenty."

Eager to see the taking of the spoil, Nic was over in good time next morning, the black trotting by his side; and upon reaching the tree the Australian savage took the axe from his waistcloth, while Leather lit a great piece of touchwood by means of a burning gla.s.s. This wood began to burn, emitting a dense white smoke, and as the convict waved it about, the black took off his waistcloth, pa.s.sed it through the handle of the bucket, and tied it again about his middle, so that the bucket hung behind. Then, axe in hand, he began to chop notches in the soft bark, to make steps for his active feet, and climbed steadily up and up, Nic watching him the while.

"It looks very dangerous," said the boy. "Think he is likely to fall?"

"Not in the least, sir. They begin doing these things when children, and they don't seem to have any nerves."

It seemed indeed as if the black did not know fear, for he went on up and up till he was fully sixty feet from the ground, and here he held on with his legs while he undid his waistcloth once more and tied it now to a branch, so that the bucket hung close to the hole where the bees buzzed in and out, as if feeling in no wise incommoded by the black face so near.

And now Bungarolo stuck the axe into the soft bark and rapidly descended, grinning hugely at his success. Leather handed him the smoking torch, and he went up again, holding the end of the soft wood in his teeth.

On reaching the hole, the smoke which had accompanied him in his ascent became thicker, and being held just below the entrance, scared away the bees coming back, and those coming out into pouring forth faster and faster, till there was quite a cloud darting about above that of the blinding wood smoke.

Then a few cleverly directed strokes of the axe made a big opening through the bark, the axe was thrown down, and the black's arm thrust in right up to the shoulder, and his hand drawn out bearing a great cake of honeycomb.

This he deposited in the bucket, pausing now and then to give the smoking wood a wave, or to hold it inside the opening, to drive out the bees before bringing out more and more comb, till the bucket was pretty well full.

And now the most difficult task seemed to await the black; but he held on again with his legs, untied the waist cloth, rested the bucket on his chest, while he knotted the cloth ends together again, and slipped it over his head. Then, taking the smoking wood from where he had placed it inside the hole, he threw it down and descended safe and triumphant, to begin cleaning his sticky hands after the fashion of a cat, before bearing the bucket back to the station, where Mrs Braydon gave him a lump of damper for a reward.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

LEATHER SPEAKS OUT.

Another day, it seemed as if Sorrel felt with his master, and took him straight to a fresh part of the great sheep run, near where the vast gorge was fenced at its edge with mighty trees, beneath one of which Leather was seated, looking hard and stern.

Nic was very thoughtful that day. There was something he wanted to ask the convict, but he always shrank from satisfying his curiosity; and this time he showed that he had something upon his mind so plainly, that Leather after their abrupt salutations had pa.s.sed, said:

"Not well, sir?"

"Yes, quite well. Why?"

"Looked queer, sir."

"Oh, nothing," said Nic hastily, for he had made up his mind to question the man, and now the opportunity had come he felt that he could not speak.

"I was thinking about you a little while ago, sir."

"About me? Why?"

"You were saying the other day that you had seen so few snakes. I've seen four this morning. Two of them are poisonous; you may as well have a shot at them."

"How do you know that they are poisonous?"

"Partly from the bad character they have, sir, partly from the shape of the head."

"Let's see, I've heard something about that before: poisonous snakes have a spade-shaped head, haven't they?"

"That's what they call it, sir. It is really a great swelling at the back of the jaws on either side of the neck. This swelling is made by the poison bags which communicate with their hollow fangs. You'll see if you shoot the big gentleman I saw crawling back into his hole this morning. I dare say he's out again now, to be in the hot sun. Why, what's the matter, Master Nic?"

"Matter?"

"Yes, sir; you keep going off in a dreamy way, and not listening."

Nic frowned and was silent.

"I beg your pardon, sir; it is like my impertinence to ask you. I forget sometimes, when you are ready to treat me like a human being, that I am only a convict."

"Don't take it like that," said Nic hurriedly. "It was only because I was thinking, Leather."

"Yes, sir, I see: some little trouble at home."