A Little Bush Maid Part 21

But the end of it was, Mrs. Lister departed that night, and Norah and I danced a polka in the hall when we heard the buggy drive off."

"That being the case," said Norah gravely, "we'll all have an apple."

The apples were produced and discussed, and then it was time to think of home, for the sun had long since left the glistening surface of the falls. So they gathered themselves up, and reluctantly enough left the beautiful scene behind them, with many a backward look.

The way home was rather silent. The shadow of the boys' departure was over them all, and Norah especially felt the weight of approaching loneliness. With Dad at home it would have been easier to let the boys go, but the prospect of several days by herself, with only the servants for company, was not a very comforting one. Norah wished dismally that she had been born a boy, with the prospect of a journey, and mates, and school, and "no end of larks." Then she thought of Dad, and though still dismal, unwished the wish, and was content to remain a girl.

There was a little excitement on the homeward trip over a snake, which tried to slip away unseen through the gra.s.s, and when it found itself surrounded by enemies, coiled itself round Harry's leg, a proceeding very painful to that youth, who nevertheless stood like a statue while Jim dodged about for a chance to strike at the wildly waving head. He got it at last, and while the reptile writhed in very natural annoyance, Harry managed to get free, and soon put a respectful distance between himself and his too-affectionate acquaintance. Jim finished up the snake, and they resumed the track, keeping a careful look-out, and imagining another in every rustle.

"Well done, old Harry!" said Wally. "Stood like a statue, you did!"

"Thanks!" said Harry. "Jim's the chap to say 'Well done' to, I think."

"Not me," said Jim. "Easy enough to try to kill the brute. I'd rather do that than feel him round my leg, where I couldn't get at him."

"Well, I think I would, too," Harry said, laughing. "I never felt such a desire to stampede in my life."

"It was beastly," affirmed Norah. She was a little pale. "It seemed about an hour before he poked his horrid head out and let Jim get a whack at it. But you didn't lose much time, then, Jimmy!"

"Could he have bitten through the leg of your pants?" queried Wally, with interest.

"He couldn't have sent all the venom through, I think," Jim replied.

"But enough would have gone to make a very sick little Harry."

"It'd be an interesting experiment, no doubt," said Harry. "But, if you don't mind, I'll leave it for someone else to try. I'd recommend a wooden-legged man as the experimenter. He'd feel much more at his ease while the snake was trying how much venom he could get through a pant leg!"

CHAPTER XI. GOOD-BYE

"I was just a-goin' to ring the big bell," said Mrs. Brown.

She was standing on the front verandah as the children came up the lawn.

"Why, we're not late, Brownie, are we?" asked Norah.

"Not very." The old housekeeper smiled at her. "Only when your Pa's away I allers feels a bit nervis about you--sech thoughtless young people, an' all them animals and snakes about!"

"Gammon!" said Jim laughing. "D'you mean to say I can't look after them, Brownie?"

"I'd rather not say anythink rash, Master Jim," rejoined Mrs. Brown with a twinkle.

"I guess Mrs. Brown's got the measure of your foot, old man," grinned Harry.

"Oh, well," said Jim resignedly, "a chap never gets his due in this world. I forgive you, Brownie, though you don't deserve it. Got a nice tea for us?"

"Sech as it is, Master Jim, it's waitin' on you," said Mrs. Brown, with point.

"That's what you might call a broad hint," cried Jim. "Come on, chaps--race you for a wash-up!"

They scattered, Mrs. Brown laying violent hands on the indignant Norah, and insisting on arraying her in a clean frock, which the victim resisted, as totally unnecessary. Mrs. Brown carried her point, however, and a trim little maiden joined the boys in the dining-room five minutes later.

Mrs. Brown's cooking was notable, and she had excelled herself over the boys' farewell tea. A big cold turkey sat side by side with a ham of majestic dimensions, while the cool green of a salad was tempting after the hot walk. There were jellies, and a big bowl of fruit salad, while the centre of the table was occupied by a tall cake, raising aloft glittering white tiers. There were scones and tarts and wee cakes, and dishes of fresh fruit, and altogether the boys whistled long and softly, and declared that "Brownie was no end of a brick!"

Whereat Mrs. Brown, hovering about to see that her charges wanted nothing, smiled and blushed, and said, "Get on, now, do!"

Jim carved, and Jim's carving was something to marvel at. No method came amiss to him. When he could cut straight he did; at other times he sawed; and, when it seemed necessary, he dug. After he had finished helping every one, Wally said that the turkey looked as if a dog had been at it, and the ham was worse, which remarks Jim meekly accepted as his due. Nor did the inartistic appearance of the turkey prevent the critic from coming back for more!

Everyone was hungry, and did full justice to "Brownie's" forethought; while Norah, behind the tall teapot, declared that it was a job for two men and a boy to pour out for such a thirsty trio. Harry helped the fruit salad, and Harry's helpings were based on his own hunger, and would have suited Goliath. Finally, Norah cut the cake with great ceremony, and Wally's proposal that everyone should retire to the lawn with a "chunk" was carried unanimously.

Out on the gra.s.s they lay and chattered, while the dusk came down, and slowly a pale moon climbed up into the sky. Norah alone was silent.

After a while Harry and Wally declared they must go and pack, and Jim and his sister were left alone.

Wally and Harry scurried down the hail. The sound of their merry voices died away, and there was silence on the lawn.

Jim rolled nearer to Norah.

"Blue, old girl?"

"'M," said a m.u.f.fled voice.

Jim felt for her hand in the darkness--and found it. The small, brown fingers closed tightly round his rough paw.

"I know," he said comprehendingly. "I'm awfully sorry, old woman. I do wish we hadn't to go."

There was no answer. Jim knew why--and also knowing perfectly well that tears would mean the deepest shame, he talked on without requiring any response.

"Beastly hard luck," he said. "We don't want to go a bit--fancy school after this! Ugh! But there are three of us, so it isn't so bad. It wouldn't matter if Dad was at home, for you. But I must say it's lowdown to be leaving you all by your lonely little self."

Norah struggled hard with that abominable lump in her throat, despising herself heartily.

"Brownie'll be awfully good to you," went on Jim. "You'll have to buck up, you know, old girl, and not let yourself get dull. You practise like one o'clock; or make jam, or something; or get Brownie to let you do some cooking. Anything to keep you 'from broodin' on bein' a dorg,' as old David Harum says. There's all the pets to look after, you know--you've got to keep young black Billy up to the mark, or he'll never feed 'em properly, and if you let him alone he changes the water in the dishes when the last lot's dry. And, by George, Norah"--Jim had a bright idea--"Dad told me last night he meant to s.h.i.+ft those new bullocks into the Long Plain. Ten to one he forgot all about it, going away so suddenly. You'll have to see to it."

"I'd like that," said Norah, feeling doubtfully for her voice.

"Rather--best thing you can do," Jim said eagerly. "Take Billy with you, of course, and a dog. They're not wild, and I don't think you'll have any trouble--only be very careful to get 'em all--examine all the scrub in the paddock. Billy knows how many there ought to be. I did know, but, of course, I've forgotten. Of course Dad may have left directions with one of the men about it already."

"Well, I could go too, couldn't I?" queried Norah.

"Rather. They'd be glad to have you."

"Well, I'll be glad of something to do. I wasn't looking forward to to-morrow."

"No," said Jim, "I know you weren't. Never mind, you keep busy. You might drive into Cunjee with Brownie on Tuesday--probably you'd get a letter from Dad a day earlier, and hear when he's coming home--and if he says he's coming home on Thursday, Wednesday won't seem a bit long.

You'll be as right as ninepence if you buck up."

"I will, old chap. Only I wish you weren't going."