Mates at Billabong Part 22

"Block him! Block him, I say!"

Jim's voice rang out. Cecil uttered a feeble yelp as the calf came racing past, waved his arms, and executed a few mild steps towards him--attentions which but served to accelerate the Shorthorn's flight.

He went by the city lad like a meteor, rendering useless a wild run by Wally, who was just too late to head him. Murty O'Toole uttered a shout of wrath.

"Howly Ann! He's lost him! The blitherin'--yerra, glory be, there's Miss Norah!"

The change from indignation to relief was comical. Norah and Bobs came like a bolt from the blue upon the vision of the astonished Shorthorn, which made one last gallant effort for freedom, dodging and twisting, while gallant effort for freedom, dodging and twisting, while Bobs made every movement, propping and swinging to cut him off in a manner that would have disturbed any rider not used to the intricate ways of a stock horse. Finally the calf gave it up abruptly, and raced back towards the yard, the pony at his heels. He bolted in at the open gate, promptly followed by his companions, and Murty cut off their exit with a grunt of relief.

"Wisha, it's hot!" he said, mopping his brow. "Sure, Miss Norah, y' kem in the nick av time--'twas run clane off our legs, we was."

"They CAN run, can't they?" said Norah, who was laughing. "Did you hurt yourself, Murty?"

"Only me timper," said the Irishman, grinning. "But 'twas enough to make a man angry to see that little omadhaun dancin' an' flapping his arrums f'r all the world loike a monkey on a stick--an' pardon to ye, Miss Norah, but I do be forgettin' he's y'r cousin."

"Oh, he's not used to stock; you mustn't be hard on him, Murty," Norah laughed. "Are you very hot, you poor boys?"--as Wally and Jim came up, panting. Cecil had withdrawn towards the house, in offended dignity.

"Hot!" said Wally, casting himself on the ground--

"'Far better in the sod to lie, With pasturing pig above, Than broil beneath a copper sky, In sight of all I love!'

That's me!"

"Don't know how you've energy to spout Dr. Watts at that rate," said Jim, following his example.

"I don't think it is Dr. Watts; I fancy it's Kendall," said Wally, uncertainly. "Not that it matters, anyhow; I'm not likely to meet either of them! Did you ever see anything like the way those little beggars ran?"

"Hope I never will again--with the thermometer at this height," Jim answered. "Norah, no words can say how glad I was to see you return, my dear!"

"I can imagine how much of your gladness concerned me, and how much was due to that Shorthorn calf!" said Norah, laughing.

"Well, he'd have been fleeing yet into the offing if it hadn't been for you," said Wally. "Will any one take my hand and lead me for a drink?"

"We'll go up to the house--it's cool there," Jim said. "I want a lemon squash three feet long. There'll be one for you, Murty, if you come up."

"I will that same," said Mr. O'Toole, promptly. "There's no vegetable loike the limon on a day loike this!" So they let Bobs go, and all trooped inside, where Cecil was found, well brushed, and wearing a martyred expression--which, however, was not proof against refreshments.

He even went so far as to express mild regret for his slowness to render a.s.sistance, remarking that it was against his doctor's advice for him to run; which remarks were received with fitting demeanour by his hearers, though, as Wally remarked later, it was difficult to see how any one who knew Cecil at all could ever have contemplated the possibility of his running!

"Well, I must go back and help Murty brand those youngsters," Jim said, at length, bringing his long form in stages off the sofa. "Coming, Wal.? And, Norah, just you take things quietly. It's uncommon hot, and you'll have a long day to-morrow."

Norah a.s.sented with surprising meekness, and the day pa.s.sed calmly, enlivened by an enthusiastic cricket practice in the evening; after which she was called into requisition at the piano, and played to an audience stretched on basket chairs and lounges on the verandah outside. Finally the performer protested, coming out through one of the long windows for a breath of cooler air.

"Well, then, it's bed," said Jim, yawning prodigiously. "Norah, the men are going to drive in, with our playing togs, to-morrow; would you rather go in the buggy?"

"I'd rather drive, thanks, Jim."

"Thought so. Then hurry off to bed, for we're going to make an early start." Jim paused, looking up at the star-filled sky. "And I give you all warning, it's going to be a caution for heat!"

CHAPTER XIV

CUNJEE v. MULGOA

I remember What it was to be young, and glad, and strong, By a creek that rippled the whole day long.

M. FORREST.

There was no doubt whatever that the heat was, as Jim had prophesied, "a caution." Pretty little Mrs. Anderson, walking down to the cricket ground at Cunjee, between Jim and Cecil, inwardly wondered what had made her come out of her cool, shaded house to encounter so scorching a sun--with nothing ahead but a bush cricket match. However, Cunjee was no more lively than other townships of its cla.s.s, and even a match was something. Besides, her husband was playing, and the Billabong contingent, who did not seem to mind the heat at all, had arrived full of most infectious high spirits, filling her house with a cheerful atmosphere of youth and jollity. Norah had at once succ.u.mbed to the charms of the baby, and as the baby seemed similarly impressed with Norah, it had been hard to remove him from her arms even for purposes of nourishment for either. She had quite seriously proposed to take him to the match, and had been a little grieved when his mother hastily vetoed the proposition. As mother of three babies, Mrs. Anderson knew precisely their worth at an entertainment--particularly on a hot day.

Even Cecil was more than usually inclined to be--if not happy, at least less bored; although he had begun the day badly, and considered himself scarcely on speaking terms with Jim. This att.i.tude was somewhat difficult to sustain, because Jim himself ignored it cheerfully, and addressed to his cousin whatever remarks came into his head--which Cecil privately considered a demeanour showing the worst of taste.

Bobs had been the "unhappy cause of all this discord." The bay pony was always an object of envy to Cecil, and in his heart he was determined to ride him before leaving Billabong. Particularly he coveted him for the ride into Cunjee. It was bad enough, he considered, to be condemned to Brown Betty in the paddocks, but she was certainly not stylish enough to please him when it came to a township expedition. So he had sauntered out when the horses were being saddled, and delicately hinted to Jim that he might ride Bobs.

Jim, wrestling with Garryowen's girth, had found it the easiest way out of the difficulty to avoid hearing the hint--which he considered "like Cecil's cheek," and as nothing short of Norah's own command would have induced him to accede to it, silence seemed the better plan. Cecil had waited a moment until his head came up from under the saddle flap, and repeated his remark.

"Afraid not," said Jim, driven to bay, and speaking shortly to cover his annoyance. "Norah's going to ride him herself." He led Garryowen off to tie him under the shade of the pepper trees, and did not return to saddle Bobs until Cecil had retreated to the house, looking very black.

This little incident--which Jim had not thought is necessary to report to Norah--had slightly marred the harmony of the early morning. But Jim's unfailing good humour make it hard to keep up a grievance, and if Betty were not exactly stylish, her paces were good enough to make her rider enjoy the trip into Cunjee, especially as Wally and Norah were in the best of spirits and kept things going with a will. Then had come lunch at the Andersons', an occasion which called all Cecil's reserve powers into play. Mrs. Anderson was pretty and smart, and he a.s.sumed his best society manner in talking to her, monopolized most of the conversation and flattered himself on making a distinct impression on his country hostess. Possibly he would have been pained had he heard Mrs. Anderson's remark to her husband while putting on her hat after lunch.

"Did you ever see such a contrast, Jack?" she asked--"that conceited boy, and those nice Grammar School youngsters--they're so jolly and unaffected!" To which the doctor had responded that if he had his way he'd boil Cecil, and it was time she had that veil fixed--and had led her forth, protesting that "half the pins weren't in!"

Cecil, however, knew nothing of these comments, and was very well satisfied with himself as they walked slowly along the lane leading to the cricket ground. Jim, on the other side of Mrs. Anderson, tall and handsome in his flannels, with his white hat pulled over his eyes, discoursed cheerfully of school matches, and promised them something worth seeing if young Wally got going with the bat--conversation which did not interest Cecil, who turned it as speedily as might be to matters more to his taste, whereat Jim grew silent, listening with a smile hovering on his well-cut mouth to society doing in the city, told with a view to impressing his hearers with a sense of the narrator's own important share therein. Once Mrs. Anderson met Jim's eye in a brief glance, and reflected the smile momentarily. Behind them, Norah, Wally, and the little doctor kept up a flow of chatter which Wally described as "quite idiotic and awfully comfortable!" The party arrived at the cricket ground on very good terms with itself.

The ground boasted no pavilion save a shed used for the preparation of afternoon tea--a building of which the extreme heat made it almost possible to boil the kettle without lighting a fire! Naturally, no one used it for purposes of watching the play, but there was a row of wattle trees along one side of the ground, and seats placed in their shade made an excellent natural grand stand. Here the non-players betook themselves, while the doctor and the two boys went off to the spot where already most of the other players were gathered--a lean-to under a huge gum-tree, used as a dressing-room by most of the combatants, a number of whom arrived on horseback from long distances.

The Billabong boys had changed at the hotel, after putting up their horses, and before repairing to the Andersons', so that they had no dressing to do--which was more than fortunate for them, since the lean-to was so thick with men, boys, valises, discarded garments, leggings and boots, that it resembled a hive in a strong state of disorganization.

Finally, the men were ready; a somewhat motley crowd--not more than seven or eight in flannels, while the remainder were in ordinary dress, with occasionally riding breeches and leggings to be seen, and not a few football jerseys. The Mulgoa men, on being mustered, were found to be a man short, while Cunjee had one to the good. So Murty O'Toole, to his intense disgust, was solemnly handed over to Mulgoa. Then Dr.

Anderson, who captained Cunjee, won the toss, and Murty took the field along with his new allies, amid heartless jeers from Mr. Boone, smoking comfortably under a tree, who desired to know should he fetch Mr.

O'Toole an umbrella?

The story in detail of a cricket match is generally of particular interest to those who have been there; and as, unfortunately, the number of spectators of the famous battle between Cunjee and Mulgoa was limited, little would be served by an exhaustive description of each over bowled on that day of relentless heat. Cunjee shaped badly from the start. Their two most noted batsmen, a young blacksmith and the post-master, fell victims, without getting into double figures, to the crafty bowling of the Mulgoa captain, Dan Billings--who drove a coach in his spare moments, and had as nice an understanding of how to make a ball break on a fast wicket as of flicking the off leader on the ear with the cracker of his four-in-hand whip. Dr. Anderson scored a couple of fours, and then went out "leg before." He remarked, returning to the "pavilion" sorrowfully, that when one was as round and fat as he, it was difficult to keep out of the way of three little sticks! Then Dave Boone and Wally made a stand that roused the perspiring spectators to something like enthusiasm, for Mr. Boone was a mighty "slogger," and Wally had a neat and graceful style that sent the Cunjee supporters into the seventh heaven. Between them the score mounted rapidly, and the men of Mulgoa breathed a sigh of relief when at length Dave skied a ball from Billings, which descended into the ample hands of Murty O'Toole, who was quite undecided whether to treat his catch as a triumph or a calamity. There was no doubt, however, on the part of his colleagues for the day, who thumped him wildly on the back and yelled again with joy. Mr. Boone retired with a score of forty-five and a wide grin.

Then Jim joined Wally, and kept his end up while his chum put on the runs. Nothing came amiss to Wally that day--slow b.a.l.l.s, fast b.a.l.l.s, "yorkers," "googlies"--the science of Mulgoa went to earth before the thin brown schoolboy with the merry face. Jim, however, was never at ease, though he managed to remain in a good while; and eventually d.i.c.kenson, a wiry little Mulgoa man, found his middle stump with a swift ball--to the intense dismay of Norah, to whom it seemed that the sky had fallen. Cecil smiled serenely.

"I had an idea Jim fancied himself as a bat!" said he.

"Jim never fancies himself at anything!" said Jim's sister, indignantly. "Anyway, he's a bowler far more than a bat."

"Ah, it's possibly not his 'day out.' What a pity!" Cecil murmured.

"Well, we can't always be on our best form, I suppose," said Mrs.

Anderson, pacifically. "And, at any rate, Norah, your friend is doing splendidly. Wasn't that a lovely stroke?"

Alas! it soon was apparent that Cunjee was not going to support its ally. One after another the wickets went down, and the batsmen returned from the field "with mournful steps and slow." Wally, seeing his chances diminishing, took liberties with the bowling, and hit wildly, with amazing luck in having catches missed. At last, however, he snicked a ball into cover-point's hands, and retired, amid great applause, having made forty-three. The remaining Cunjee wickets went as chaff before the wind, and the innings closed for 119.

Then there was a rush for the refreshment shed, and monumental quant.i.ties of tea were consumed by the teams and their supporters, administered by the admiring maidens of Cunjee. Wally and Jim, p.r.o.ne on the gra.s.s in the shade, were cheerful, but by no means enthusiastic regarding their chances. Norah had half expected to find Jim cast down over his batting failure, and was much relieved that he exhibited all his usual serenity. Jim's training had been against showing feeling over games.