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"I shall come, too," said Alice: "that is," added she, looking shyly at Sam, "if you would be kind enough to take care of me, and let Mr.
Halbert and Jim do the riding. But I'm afraid I shall be sadly in your way."
"If you don't go," said Sam, "I shall stay at home: now then!"
At this minute, the housekeeper came in bearing jugs and gla.s.ses.
"Eleanor," said Jim, "is Jerry round?"
"Yes, sir; he's coiled somewhere in the woodhouse," said she.
"Just rouse him out and send him in."
"Who is this Jerry who coils in woodhouses?" said Halbert.
"A tame black belonging to us. He is great at all sorts of hunting; I want to see if he can find us a flying doe for to-morrow."
Jerry entered, and advanced with perfect self-possession towards the fire. He was a tall savage, with a big black beard, and wavy hair like a Cornishman. He was dressed in an old pair of dandy riding breeches of Jim's, which reached a short way below the knees, fitting closely, and a blue check s.h.i.+rt rolled up above the elbow showing his lean wiry forearm, seamed and scarred with spear wounds and bruises. He addressed n.o.body, but kept his eyes wandering all over the room; at length he said, looking at the ceiling,--
"Cobbon thirsty this fellow: you got a drop of brandy?"
"Jerry," said Jim, having produced the brandy, "you make a light kangaroo."
"All about plenty kangaroo," said Jerry.
"Yowi; but mine want it big one flying doe."
"Ah-h-h! Mine make a light flying doe along a stockyard this morning; close by, along a fent, you see!"
"That'll do," says Jim. "We'll be up round the old stockyard after breakfast to-morrow. You, Jerry, come with us."
It was a fresh breezy autumn morning in April, when the four sallied forth, about nine o'clock, for their hunt. The old stockyard stood in the bush, a hundred yards from the corner of the big paddock fence, and among low rolling ranges and gullies, thickly timbered with gum, cherry, and sheoak: a thousand parrots flew swiftly in flocks, whistling and screaming from tree to tree, while wattled-birds and numerous other honeyeaters cl.u.s.tered on the flowering basksias. The spurwinged plover and the curlew ran swiftly among the gra.s.s, and on a tall dead tree white c.o.c.katoos and blue cranes watched the intruders curiously.
Alice and Sam rode together soberly, and before them were Halbert and Jim, just up, ready for the chase. Before them, again, was the active blackfellow, holding the dogs in a leash,--two tall hounds, bred of foxhound and greyhound, with a dash of colley.
A mob of kangaroos crosses their path, but they are all small; so the dogs, though struggling fiercely, are still held tight by Jerry: now he crosses a little ridge before them and looks down into the gully beyond, holding up his hand.
The two young men gather up their reins and settle themselves in their seats. "Now, Halbert," says Jim, "sit fast and mind the trees."
They ride up to the blackfellow; through the low wattles, they can see what is in the gully before them, though the dogs cannot.
"Baal, flying doe this one," says Jerry in a whisper. "Old man this fellow, cobbon matong, mine think it."
A great six-foot kangaroo was standing about two hundred yards from them, staring stupidly about him.
"Let go, Jerry," said Jim. The dogs released; sprang forward, and, in an instant, saw their quarry, which, with a loud puff of alarm, bounded away up the opposite slope at full speed, taking twenty feet at each spring.
Halbert and Jim dashed off after the dogs, who had got a good start of them, and were laying themselves out to their work right gallantly; Sam's dog, Fly, slightly leading. Both dogs were close on the game, and Halbert said,--
"We are going to have a short run, I'm afraid."
"Talk about that twenty minutes hence," said Jim, settling to his work.
Over range after range they hold their headlong course. Now a bandicoot scuttles away from under their feet to hide in his hollow log; now a mob of terrified cattle huddle together as they sweep by; now they are flying past a shepherd's hut, and the mother runs out to s.n.a.t.c.h up a child, and bear him out of harm's way, after they are safe past. A puppy, three weeks old, joins the chase with heart and soul, but "eaves in" at about fifty yards, and sits him down to bark. Now they are rus.h.i.+ng on through a broad flat, with another great range before them.
Still always the grey bounding figure holds on, through sunlight and shadow, with the dogs grim and steadfast close in his wake.
The work begins to tell on the horses. Fat Jezebel, who could hardly be held at first, now is none the worse for a little spur; and Jim's lean, long-legged horse, seems to consider that the entertainment ought to conclude shortly. "Well done, Fly!" he shouts; "bravely tried, my girl!" She had drawn herself ahead, and made a bold strike at the kangaroo, but missed him. Now the other dog, Bolt, tries it, but without luck; and now they have both dropped a little back, and seem in for another mile or so.
Well done, la.s.s!--there she goes again! With a furious effort she pushes ahead, and seizes the flying beast by the hock--this time with some luck, for down he goes in a cloud of dust and broken sticks, and both the dogs are on him at once. Now he is up again and running, but feebly. And see, what is the matter with the young dog? He runs on, but keeps turning, snapping fiercely at his side, and his footsteps are marked with blood. Poor lad! he has got a bad wound in that last tumble,--the kangaroo has ripped up his flank with a kick from his hind foot. But now the chase is over,--the hunted beast has turned, and is at bay against a tree, Fly standing before him, waiting for a.s.sistance, snarling fiercely.
They pulled up. Jim took out a pistol and presented it to Halbert.
"Thank you," said he. "Hair trigger?"
"Yes."
He balanced it for a second, and in another the kangaroo was lying quivering on the ground, shot through the heart.
"Well done!" said Jim. "Now, I must look to this dog."
All his flank along the ribs was laid open, and Jim, producing a needle and thread, proceeded to sew it up.
"Will you let me do that for you?" said Halbert.
"I wish you would. I'm fond of the poor thing, and my hand shakes.
You've seen the surgeons at work, I expect."
"Yes, indeed." And he tenderly and carefully st.i.tched up the dog's side, while Jim held him.
"What do we do with the game?" said he.
"Oh, Jerry will be along on our tracks presently," said Jim. "He brings me the tail, and does what he likes with the rest. I wonder where Sam and Alice are?"
"Oh, they are right enough," said Halbert, laughing. "I dare say they are not very anxious about the kangaroo, or anything else. That's 'a case,' I suppose?"
"Well, I hope it is," said Jim; "but you see I don't know. Girls are so odd."
"Perhaps he has never asked her."
"No; I don't think he has. I wish he would. You are not married, are you?"
"My G.o.d--no!" said Halbert, "nor ever shall be."
"Never?"
"Never, Jim. Let me tell you a story as we ride home. You and I shall be good friends, I know. I like you already, though we have only known one another two days. I can see well what you are made of. They say it eases a man's mind to tell his grief. I wish it would mine. Well; before I left England I had secretly engaged myself to marry a beautiful girl, very much like your sister, a governess in my brother-in-law's family. I went off to join my regiment, and left her there with my sister and her husband, Lord Carstone, who treated her as if she was already one of the family--G.o.d bless them! Two years ago my father died, and I came into twenty thousand pounds; not much, but enough to get married on in India, particularly as I was getting on in my profession. So I wrote to her to come out to me. She sailed in the a.s.sam, for Calcutta, but the s.h.i.+p never arrived. She was spoken off the Mauritius, but never seen after. The underwriters have paid up her insurance, and everyone knows now that the a.s.sam went down in a typhoon, with all hands."
"G.o.d bless you," said Jim! "I'm very sorry for that."
"Thank you. I have come here for change of scene more than anything, but I think I shall go back soon."