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The Dingo Boys: The Squatters of Wallaby Range, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 18. "That Isn't Thunder" |
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_ CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. "THAT ISN'T THUNDER" "Hi! Rouse up! Black fellows!" shouted Rifle, and his brother and cousin started up in bed, ready for the moment to believe him, for there was a black face peering in at their window. "Get out!" cried Tim, hurling a boot at his cousin, who dodged it, while as soon as Norman had grasped the fact that the face belonged to Shanter he made a rush at his brother, who laughingly avoided it, and then hurrying on their clothes, they went out to find the captain and Uncle Jack, each with a double gun in the hollow of his arm. "Seen anything, father?" cried Norman. "No, my boy, all peaceable, and Shanter says there are no black fellows near." "Baal black fellow," said that gentleman. "See plenty mine bunyip, baal come again." Here he burst into a roar of laughter, and began imitating the action of a myall black creeping up to the storehouse, going close up to the flour-tub, and looking in before uttering a wild yell, darting back, tumbling, getting up, falling again, rolling over and over, and then jumping up to run away as hard as he could. He came back panting and grinning in a minute or two, looking from one to the other as if for applause. "I hope he is right," said Uncle Jack; "but we shall have to be more careful." "Yes," said the captain; "we have been too confident, boys, and I must now declare the station in a state of siege." "Won't it be time enough when the black fellows come, father?" "Will it be time enough to lock the stable door when the steed is stolen, sir?" replied the captain, sternly. Rifle rubbed his right ear, as if his father's words had buzzed in it, and said no more. "Talk about steeds," said the captain; "let's go and have a look at the horses. There'll be plenty of time before breakfast." For the captain had of late given a good deal of attention to one of his young horses which promised to prove of great value. The boys were already well mounted and provided most satisfactorily. There were the quiet mares, too, which the two girls rode, and Uncle Jack had a good sturdy mount; but this graceful colt had thoroughly taken the captain's attention, and he was looking forward to the day when some wealthy settler would come up the country, see it, and purchase it, or make some valuable exchange in the shape of articles as useful to them as money. They reached the paddock, which was always increasing in size, when they could find time to enclose more land with posts and rails, and the horses came trotting up for the titbits they were accustomed to receive from their owner's hand; and as the pet of the little drove thrust its head over the rail, it was patted and caressed, a halter attached and passed round its lower jaw, Shanter watching eagerly the while. "Now, Norman, up with you. I want to get him used to being backed." Norman hesitated for a moment naturally enough, for it was mounting a bare-backed unbroken colt; but the next minute he had accepted a leg up, and was in his place, with the result that the beautiful creature reared right up, pawing the air, and threatened to fall over backwards. "Grip him well, boy," shouted the captain. The command was needless, for Norman was already gripping the horse's soft sides with all his might; and he kept his seat as it now came down on all fours, and darted off at a rate which startled all the rest of the occupants of the paddock into a gallop. They followed their companion round till Norman seemed able to control his mount, and brought it back to where the rest had been watching him with some anxiety. "Well done, my boy!" said the captain, as he caressed the colt. "Down with you. Now, Raphael, you give him a turn." Rifle sprang into the place lately occupied by his brother, had a gallop round the great enclosure; and Tim followed and cantered up. "That will do for this morning," said the captain. "I like his action more and more, Jack. He'll want very little breaking in." "Yes," said Uncle Jack; "a martingale will soon check that habit of throwing up his head." "Hullo!" cried the captain; "what's that?" "Oh nothing, father," cried Rifle, laughing. "Only Shanter. He wants to have a ride round on the colt." "What and scare the poor animal with his black face? Besides, he can't ride." "Yohi!" shouted the black, excitedly. "Plenty mine ride. Plenty mine ride bull-cow horse fellow. Plenty mine ride." He strode toward the colt to mount but the captain laid his hand upon his shoulder. Shanter started round angrily. "Mine go ride plenty mine," he cried. "No. Don't touch the horse," said the captain, sternly. White man and black stood gazing in each other's eyes for some moments, and then Shanter took his spear from where it leaned against the rails, and marched off toward the nearest patch of scrub, displaying such airs of offended dignity that the boys all laughed, with the result that Shanter turned upon them furiously--like a ridiculed child--threw himself into an attitude, and threatened to throw his spear. But, as the boys laughed all the more heartily, he turned and went off. "You have offended his majesty, father," cried Norman. "Oh, he'll forget it all in a few hours," said Rifle and they went back in to breakfast. Soon after the captain had a ride round, ostensibly to see the more distant cattle; but, as he owned to Rifle, who accompanied him, really to see if there were any traces of blacks; but there were none. "I'll send Shanter out scouting," said the captain, as they rode back; but there was no Shanter to send. He had evidently not forgotten, and not come back. The next morning a visit was again paid to where the horses were enclosed every night, the captain meaning to have the colt ridden daily now, so as to break it in by degrees, when, to his annoyance, he found it looking rough and out of order, but that evening it seemed to be much better, and was grazing heartily as usual. The next morning it was the same, and so on for several more mornings. "I don't understand it," said the captain. "Looks as if it had been galloped, father," said Norman. "Yes; but the others are all right, and it would not go off and gallop alone. Flies have worried the poor beast, I suppose." Meanwhile there had been no sign of Shanter. He had gone off in dudgeon and stayed away, his absence being severely felt in the house, for his task of fetching wood and water had to be placed in Sam German's hands; and as this was not what he called his regular work, he did it in a grumbling, unpleasant manner, which very much raised Aunt Georgie's ire. "Shanter will come back soon, aunt," Tim kept on saying. "But he does not come back, boy," cried Aunt Georgie; "and you boys will have to do his work, for I am not going to have that grumbling gardener to bring my wood and water. I must say, though, that it does make a good deal of difference in the consumption of bread." And still Shanter did not come back, neither was anything seen of him by the boys in their long stock-herding rides; while to make things more annoying the colt grew worse, and the captain complained bitterly. "But I don't think father ought to grumble," said Rifle, one night when they were going to bed. "Everything else has got on so well. Why, we shall soon be having a big farm." "Yes," said Norman; "but the colt was a pet, and he had given so much attention to it." They went to bed and all was quiet, but somehow Rifle could not sleep. It was a sultry, thunderous night, and at last he rose, opened the window, and stood to gaze out at the flashing lightning as it played about a ridge of clouds in the east. "Can't you sleep?" said Norman, in a whisper. "No; come here. It's so jolly and cool." There was a faint rustling sound in the darkness, and the next minute Norman was by his brother's side, enjoying the soft, comparatively cool, night air. "Lovely," he said; and then they both stood gazing at the lightning, which made the clouds look like a chain of mountains, about whose summits the electricity played. All at once there was a dull, low, muttering sound, apparently at a distance. "Thunder," said Norman. "We're going to have a storm." "Good job," replied Rifle, in the same low tone as that adopted by his brother. "Things were getting precious dry." There was a long pause, and the lightning grew nearer and the flashes more vivid. Then, all of a sudden as the same peculiar sound was heard, Rifle whispered: "I say, Man; that isn't thunder." "No," was the reply. "I was just thinking so. Sounds to me like a horse galloping." "Of course it does. I say, it isn't the colt, is it?" "What do you mean?" "Our colt gone mad, and galloping about all night so as to make himself look bad to-morrow morning." "Rubbish!" "But it does come from the paddock." "Yes; it does come from the paddock," said Norman, after a pause. "And no mistake about it. Only one horse too." "It's very strange," said Norman; "let's go and see." "What, in the middle of the night, like this? Father would hear us and take us for black fellows." "We could drop quietly out of the window. Why, Rifle, you're right; there is a horse galloping in the paddock. Let's dress and go." "Shall we call father and tell him first?" "No; because we might be wrong. Let's go and see first. A 'possum must have got on the horse's back and be scaring him into this gallop. Look sharp." The boys soon had on their flannel shirts and trousers, generally their every-day costume, and after satisfying themselves that Tim was fast asleep, they squeezed themselves out of the window and dropped one after the other, and then hurried along in the thick darkness, across the garden, past the storehouse, and then along under the shelter of the fences till, perfectly satisfied now, they neared the corner of the paddock, just as a horse galloped by at full speed. "No wonder he looks so bad of a morning," whispered Norman. "Here, go on a little farther and then we can look through and see." They went down now on hands and knees, and crept along till they could look through into the great paddock, just as a flash of lightning revealed to them a group of horses in the centre of the field all pretty close together, and quietly cropping the grass. "Strange, isn't it?" whispered Norman. "Listen! here he comes round again." For the beat of hoofs approached from their left, and the next minute a horse thundered by at full speed. "Why, it was!" whispered Rifle, "I saw one of those 'possums perched on its back." "No," said Norman, excitedly. "I saw something distinctly; but it was too big to be a 'possum. I think it was one of those big things that Shanter killed. Father said it was the koala or native bear." "Let's wait till it comes round again." The time seemed long, but the horse came thundering past once more, evidently steadily coursing all round the paddock close to the rails, while its fellows clustered in the middle out of the way. "It is one of those things," said Norman, triumphantly. "It wasn't," said Rifle. "I saw it quite plain, and it was one of those kangaroos as big as a man. I say, whoever would have thought of their doing that?" "What shall we do? Hadn't we better go and rouse up father?" "No," said Rifle; "let's stop and see the end of it; and to-morrow night we can all come and catch or shoot the beast. If we went now and fetched him, it might be gone before we got back, and he would think we had been dreaming." "Here it comes again; hish!" whispered Norman; and once more there was the rapid beat of the horse's feet on the dry ground, and it tore by just as there was a brighter flash of lightning; then the flying object had darted by, and Norman uttered a loud ejaculation. "Did you see?" whispered Rifle. "Yes; it was a myall black. I saw him quite plainly." "Not quite plainly," said Rifle. "But I saw him. It was a black on the poor horse, but it was old Shanter." "What?" "It was! I saw his face as plain as possible. Don't you see? He wanted to mount the horse and father wouldn't let him, so he determined to have a ride, and he must have come and had one every night, and then gone off again into the scrub." "But--" "Don't say 'but.' You know how fond he has been of horses, always wanting to ride when he went out with us." "Yes, I know; but still I can't think he would like to do that." "But he _is_ doing it. Here he comes again." This time, as the horse galloped by, they both had a perfectly plain view of the black's excited face and position as, evidently in a high state of glee, he tore by on the well-bred horse. "Now," said Rifle; "was I right?" "Oh yes," said Norman, with a sigh. "You were quite right. But be ready to shout and stop him as he comes round again." They waited for the sound of the warning thunder of hoofs, but though they heard them grow more faint, and then sound softer as they paced along on the far side of the paddock, the sound did not increase, and while they were listening there came a distinct snort, followed by a loud neighing nearer to them; another snort, and then a flash of vivid lightning illumining the paddock long enough for them to see the drove of horses in the middle all gazing in one direction toward another horse walking in their direction. Then there was black darkness, another snort, an answering neigh, and silence, broken by the faintly-heard sound of grass being torn off from its roots. "He's gone," said Norman, in a whisper. "Let's run and wake father." "What's the good now? Let's go back to bed, and tell him in the morning. No: I don't like to. Why, he'd be ready to half kill poor old Shanter." Norman was silent, and they tramped back to the house when, just as Norman was reaching up to get hold of the window-sill, a hand was stretched out. "Hallo! you two. Where have you been?" "Never mind," said Norman. "Wait till we get in again." They both climbed in silently, and Tim began again. "I say, it was shabby to go without me;" and when they explained why they had hurried off, he was no better satisfied. "I wouldn't have served you so," he grumbled. "But I say, won't uncle be in a way?" "Yes, if Norman tells him," said Rifle. "Don't you think we had better hold our tongues?" A long discussion followed, with the result that Rifle found himself in the minority, and went to sleep feeling rather unhappy about the black. _ |
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