First in the Field Part 7

"Quite," said Dominic eagerly.

"That's right. We start with the knowledge that our home is ready made out yonder. What must it have been for the brave folk who acted as pioneers, not knowing what they were going to find?"

That was mental food for the night; but Nic's busy days precluded his being troubled with sleeplessness, and he lay down to dream of the far-off home, and woke to say, in his intense eagerness:

"Only one more day, and then--off!"

CHAPTER FIVE.

OUTWARD BOUND.

"But why not go on board to-night?" asked Nic.

"Because," said Lady O'Hara drily, "it will be better to leave it till to-morrow."

Nic wondered, and said nothing, but he knew afterwards. The fact was, he did not think about anything for long. There was too much to see and do. One thought crowded out another. This minute he would be wondering how the dogs were, the next whether cows were ever sea-sick, and this made him wonder whether Dominic Braydon, off on his first voyage, would suffer from that most unpleasant ailment. There were the new clothes to think about, and the guns. It happened, too, that while he was thinking about them Lady O'Hara, looking worried and tired, entered the hotel room.

"I hope that man sent the guns all right," said Nic.

"He did, for I received a note from him and a receipt for their delivery."

"I'm glad of that," said Nic. "I was anxious about them." Lady O'Hara looked amused. Then, watching the boy closely, she said:

"By the way, Dominic, I don't think I told you I meant that gun with the short stock for you."

"For me?" cried Nic, flushing with excitement. Then hastily, "Oh no, I don't want to shoot people."

"You may if they want to kill you or those whom you love, my boy. But in any case you may want to shoot snakes and the wonderfully beautiful birds which you will see in the bush. A gun is a necessity for a settler, and so are those."

She pointed to a parcel on a side table.

"Fetch those here, and open the paper."

Nic fetched the strongly done-up packet, opened it with trembling fingers, and laid bare a beautifully finished axe and a sheath knife of the finest steel, with stout buckhorn handle and leathern belt.

"Not drawing-room presents, my boy," said the lady, smiling, "but suitable for a young settler. There, you can squeeze those in your portmanteau; the gun you can have when we get over the sea."

"But, Lady O'Hara!" faltered Nic; "the gun--such an expensive one."

"Of course it is. Who'd buy cheap rubbish to take abroad? You want the plainest and the best that money can buy."

"Yes, but I meant--"

"That they were too costly to accept? Not a bit, my boy. We owe your father a deep debt. Didn't he doctor and save both our lives? And he's a dreadfully obstinate man to deal with; but I can do as I like with you, so now hold your tongue."

"But I must thank you, Lady O'Hara."

"No, you needn't. Now then, Dominic--dear, dear! three syllables to say every time I speak to you. What a tiresome, long name, though it does sound Irish."

"Latin," said Nic.

"Irish; and don't contradict me, sir. Sure I had an uncle in Galway, who was Dominick O'Hara, with a _k_ to it. I shall call you Nic."

"Yes, do, please."

"I will. So now then, Nic, you haven't a husband to meet when you get over yonder--a fierce-looking governor, who barks at people; and when I get back he'll be asking me what I forgot to bring. Now, my dear boy, do tell me what I've failed to get."

"I can't," said Nic laughingly; "you seem to have bought nearly everything."

"Ah, ye're no use to me at all, at all, boy. I'm sure there's something I ought to have bought, and I shall remember it when we're hundreds of miles from land. I know: it was another pair of razors for Sir John!"

"But you bought those seven in a case, with the days of the week on them, Lady O'Hara."

"Sure, and I did, Nic. Good boy. You are of some use, after all. My poor head's nearly worn out with thinking, and I'm bothered entirely.

Nic, I mean to go to sleep for a week as soon as we get on board by way of a good rest. Now then, do try and think for me, Nic; what was the other thing I forgot?"

Nic shook his head.

"I could think of hundreds of things that might be useful out there."

"No, you couldn't," said the lady shortly. "You've never been there, and you'd be taking out all kinds of things that would be just of no use at all, the same as I did when I first went. I've got something on my brain, only it's buried under a heap of other things. Well, never mind; it will shake up to the top at last when it's too late."

Lady O'Hara's head was bothered till the last moment, when the hotel bill was paid, the hackney coach and driver in his coat of many capes at the door, and landlord, landlady, and servants all waiting to bid the amiable, bluff-spoken Irish lady G.o.d-speed in her long journey to the other side of the world. Then the door banged; and, followed by a cheer, the coach was driven off, Nic feeling in a peculiar state of mind, a mixture of high spirits, low spirits, and pain; for Lady O'Hara plumped herself back in her corner, took out a handkerchief, covered her face, and burst into a fit of sobbing, rocking herself to and fro as she cried aloud till Nic could bear it no longer. He had been fidgeting and wondering what to say or do, growing more and more wretched, till, at the end of ten minutes, he laid his hand upon his companion's, and said simply:

"Oh, Lady O'Hara, pray, pray don't cry."

"Sure, and I won't," she exclaimed impetuously, as she hastily wiped her eyes; "but I couldn't help it, Nic. It hurts me when people are so kind and sorry to part from you, and ye feel that ye may never see them again. I'm afraid I'm a very silly old woman. Give me a kiss, my dear, and I won't cry another drop. There, it's all over now, and that's cleared my head. It doesn't feel bothered a bit. What's forgotten's forgotten, and I don't think my darlin' will be very cross with me. If he is, I shall call you to witness that I've worked very hard."

"That you have," cried Nic.

"There, the work's done, and we'll have a rest, and enjoy our voyage.

And do you know what sort of a ship we're going in, Nic?"

"Yes; the _Northumbrian_."

"Of course; but do you know what she is?"

"East Indiaman."

"That's true enough; but has n.o.body told you what we shall have on board?"

"No."

"Then I'll tell you now. We might have waited for the next, but that would have been for a month, and I want to get back home again, Nic; so, as Sir John's name was enough to get me what I wanted, I settled we'd go in the _Northumbrian_, which is taking out a lot of convicts."

Nic's brow grew rugged.