A Little Bush Maid Part 25

She glared defiantly at the downcast trooper.

"Wish you had the job of findin' him, mum," said that individual. "Well, sir, there's no one else I could make inquiries of, is there?"

"Mrs. Brown seems to have gone the rounds," Mr. Linton said. "I really don't think there's any one else--unless my small daughter here can help you," he added laughingly.

But Norah had slipped away, foreseeing possible questioning.

The trooper smiled.

"Don't think I need worry such a small witness," he said. "No, I'll just move on, Mr. Linton. I'm beginning to think I'm on a wild-goose chase."

CHAPTER XIII. THE CIRCUS

The days went by, but no further word of the Winfield murderer came to the anxious ears of the little girl at Billabong homestead. Norah never read the papers, and could not therefore satisfy her mind by their reports; but all her inquiries were met by the same reply, "Nothing fresh." The police were still in the district--so much she knew, for she had caught glimpses of them when out riding with her father. The stern-looking men in dusty uniforms were unusual figures in those quiet parts. But Norah could not manage to discover if they had searched the scrub that hid the Hermit's simple camp; and the mystery of the Winfield murder seemed as far from being cleared up as ever.

Meanwhile there was plenty to distract her mind from such disquieting matters. The station work happened to be particularly engrossing just then, and day after day saw Norah in the saddle, close to her father's big black mare, riding over hills and plains, bringing up the slow sheep or galloping gloriously after cattle that declined to be mustered. There were visits of inspection to be made to the farthest portions of the run, and busy days in the yards, when the men worked at drafting the stock, and Norah sat perched on the high "cap" of a fence and, watching with all her eager little soul in her eyes, wished heartily that she had been born a boy. Then there were a couple of trips with Mr. Linton to outlying towns.h.i.+ps, and on one of these occasions Norah had a piece of marvellous luck, for there was actually a circus in Cunjee--a real, magnificent circus, with lions and tigers and hyaenas, and a camel, and other beautiful animals, and, best of all, a splendid elephant of meek and mild demeanour. It was the elephant that broke up Norah's calmness.

"Oh, Daddy!" she said. "Daddy! Oh, can't we stay?"

Mr. Linton laughed.

"I was expecting that," he said. "Stay? And what would Brownie be thinking?"

Norah's face fell.

"Oh," she said. "I'd forgotten Brownie. I s'pose it wouldn't do. But isn't it a glorious elephant, Daddy?"

"It is, indeed," said Mr. Linton, laughing. "I think it's too glorious to leave, girlie. Fact is, I had an inkling the circus was to be here, so I told Brownie not to expect us until she saw us. She put a basket in the buggy, with your tooth-brush, I think."

The face of his small daughter was sufficient reward.

"Daddy!" she said. "Oh, but you are the MOST Daddy!" Words failed her at that point.

Norah said that it was a most wonderful "spree." They had dinner at the hotel, where the waiter called her "Miss Linton," and in all ways behaved precisely as if she were grown up, and after dinner she and her father sat on the balcony while Mr. Linton smoked and Norah watched the population arriving to attend the circus. They came from all quarters--comfortable old farm wagons, containing whole families; a few smart buggies; but the majority came on horseback, old as well as young.

The girls rode in their dresses, or else had slipped on habit skirts over their gayer attire, with great indifference as to whether it happened to be crushed, and they had huge hats, trimmed with all the colours of the rainbow. Norah did not know much about dress, but it seemed to her theirs was queer. But one and all looked so happy and excited that dress was the last thing that mattered.

It seemed to Norah a long while before Mr. Linton shook the ashes from his pipe deliberately and pulled out his watch. She was inwardly dancing with impatience.

"Half-past seven," remarked her father, shutting up his watch with a click. "Well, I suppose we'd better go, Norah. All ready, dear?"

"Yes, Daddy. Must I wear gloves?"

"Why, not that I know of," said her father, looking puzzled. "Hardly necessary, I think. I don't wear 'em. Do you want to?"

"Goodness--no!" said his daughter hastily.

"Well, that's all right," said Mr. Linton. "Stow them in my pocket and come along."

Out in the street there were unusual signs of bustle. People were hurrying along the footpath. The blare of bra.s.s instruments came from the big circus tent, round which was lingering every small boy of Cunjee who could not gain admission. Horses were tied to adjoining fences, considerably disquieted by the brazen strains of the band. It was very cheerful and inspiring, and Norah capered gently as she trotted along by her father.

Mr. Linton gave up his tickets at the first tent, and they pa.s.sed in to view the menagerie--a queer collection, but wonderful enough in the eyes of Cunjee. The big elephant held pride of place, as he stood in his corner and sleepily waved his trunk at the aggravating flies. Norah loved him from the first, and in a moment was stroking his trunk, somewhat to her father's anxiety.

"I hope he's safe?" he asked an attendant.

"Bless you, yes, sir," said that worthy, resplendent in dingy scarlet uniform. "He alwuz knows if people ain't afraid of him. Try him with this, missy." "This" was an apple, and Jumbo deigned to accept it at Norah's hands, and crunched it serenely.

"He's just dear," said Norah, parting reluctantly from the huge swaying brute and giving him a final pat as she went.

"Better than Bobs?" asked her father.

"Pooh!" said Norah loftily. "What's this rum thing?"

"A wildebeest," read her father. "He doesn't look like it."

"Pretty tame beast, I think," Norah observed, surveying the stolid-looking animal before her. "Show me something really wild, Daddy."

"How about this chap?" asked Mr. Linton.

They were before the tiger's cage, and the big yellow brute was walking up and down with long stealthy strides, his great eyes roving over the curious faces in front of him. Some one poked a stick at him--an attention which met an instant roar and spring on the tiger's part, and a quick, and stinging rebuke from an attendant, before which the poker of the stick fled precipitately. The crowd, which had jumped back as one man, pressed nearer to the cage, and the tiger resumed his quick, silent prowl. But his eyes no longer roved over the faces. They remained fixed upon the man who had provoked him.

"How do you like him?" Mr. Linton asked his daughter.

Norah hesitated.

"He's not nice, of course," she said. "But I'm so awfully sorry for him, aren't you, Daddy? It does seem horrible--a great, splendid thing like that shut up for always in that little box of a cage. You feel he really ought to have a great stretch of jungle to roam in."

"And eat men in? I think he's better where he is."

"Well, you'd think the world was big enough for him to have a place apart from men altogether," said Norah, holding to her point st.u.r.dily.

"Somewhere that isn't much wanted--a sandy desert, or a spare Alp! This doesn't seem right, somehow. I think I've seen enough animals, Daddy, and it's smelly here. Let's go into the circus."

The circus tent was fairly crowded as Norah and her father made their way in and took the seats reserved for them, under the direction of another official in dingy scarlet. Round the ring the tiers of seats rose abruptly, each tier a ma.s.s of eager, interested faces. A lame seller of fruit and drinks hobbled about crying his wares; at intervals came the "pop" of a lemonade bottle, and there was a steady crunching of peanut sh.e.l.ls. The scent of orange peel rose over the circus smell--that weird compound of animal and sawdust and acetylene lamps. In the midst of all was the ring, with its surface banked up towards the outer edge.

They had hardly taken their seats when the band suddenly struck up in its perch near the entrance, and the company entered to the inspiring strains. First came the elephant, very lazy and stately--gorgeously caparisoned now, with a gaily attired "mahout" upon his neck. Behind him came the camel; and the cages with the other occupants of the menagerie, looking either bored or fierce. They circled round the ring and then filed out.

The band struck up a fresh strain and in cantered a lovely lady on a chestnut horse. She wore a scarlet hat and habit, and looked to Norah very like a Christmas card. Round the ring she dashed gaily, and behind her came another lady equally beautiful in a green habit, on a black horse; and a third, wearing a habit of pale blue plush who managed a piebald horse. Then came some girls in bright frocks, on beautiful ponies; and some boys, in tights, on other ponies; and then men, also in tights of every colour in the rainbow, who rode round with bored expressions, as if it were really too slow a thing merely to sit on a horse's back, instead of pirouetting there upon one foot. They flashed round once or twice and were gone, and Norah sat back and gasped, feeling that she had had a glimpse into another world--as indeed she had.

A little figure whirled into the ring--a tiny girl on a jet-black pony.

She was sitting sideways at first, but as the pony settled into its stride round the ring she suddenly leaped to her feet and, standing poised, kissed her hands gaily to the audience. Then she capered first on one foot, then on another; she sat down, facing the tail, and lay flat along the pony's back; she a.s.sumed every position except the natural one. She leapt to the ground (to Norah's intense horror, who imagined she didn't mean to), and, running fiercely at the pony, sprang on his back again, while he galloped the harder. Lastly, she dropped a handkerchief, which she easily recovered by the simple expedient of hanging head downwards, suspended by one foot, and then galloped out of the ring, amid the frantic applause of Cunjee.

"Could you do that, Norah?" laughed Mr. Linton.

"Me?" said Norah amazedly; "me? Oh, fancy me ever thinking I could ride a bit!"