Читать книгу: «Sheilah McLeod: A Heroine of the Back Blocks», страница 7

And so I was. Whatever happened, I knew I must change my things.

'Take the horses down to the Creek Bend,' I said. 'I'll run home as fast as I can – change my duds, get my whip, and meet you there.'

He nodded, and off I set as hard as I could go – forded the creek, and in less than a quarter of an hour was back once more at my old home. Not a light of any kind shone from it. Seeing this, I crept round to my own window. Then, lifting the sash as quietly as I possibly could, I crept in like a thief. Knowing exactly where to find the things I wanted, in less than ten minutes I had changed my clothes, packed my valise, and let myself out again. Then down the track I sped once more, to find Pete waiting with the three horses in the shadow of a gum.

'I've been counting the minutes since you left,' he cried impatiently, as I buckled my valise on to the pack-saddle. 'Now jump up and be off. Keep away from the township, and steer for the well as straight as you can go. You ought to be at the camp before daybreak.'

As he spoke he led the horses out of the shadow, and I was in the act of mounting when he suddenly dragged them back into it once more.

'Quiet for your life,' he whispered; 'here are the troopers, coming up the path.'

Sure enough, on the other side, three mounted troopers were riding up the track. A heavy sweat rose on my forehead as I thought what would happen if one of our horses were to move or neigh and so draw their attention to us. With the body in the pack-saddle, we should be caught red-handed.

Morgan, our township officer, rode a little in advance, the two other troopers behind him. They were laughing and joking, little dreaming how close we stood to them. When they had safely passed, Pete turned to me. 'Now,' he whispered, 'as soon as they are out of hearing be off as hard as you can go. I shall slip through the wattles and be back at the house and smoking with the Doctor in the verandah before they can reach it.'

The troopers went on up the track, and, when they got on to the top of the hill, turned off sharp to the left. As they disappeared from view I took a horse on either side of me, not without a shudder, as I thought of The Unknown's burden, and set off through the scrub towards some slip rails at the top of Pete's selection, which I knew would bring me out a little to the northward of the township. By the time the troopers could have reached the house I was through the fence and making my way down the hill as fast as my beasts could travel. It was a beautiful starlight night now, without a cloud or a breath of wind. Within a quarter of an hour I had left the last house behind me, and was heading away towards the south-west, across the open plain that surrounded the township on its northern side. Then, plunging into the scrub again, I made for the Blackfellow's Well as straight as I could steer. Considering the hard race he had run that day and the additional weight he was now carrying, The Unknown was wonderfully fresh, and the other two horses found it took them all their time to keep pace with him.

The silence of the scrub was mysterious in the extreme, 'possums scuttled across my track, a stray dingoe had a long stare at me from some rocks above a creek, while curlews whistled at me from every pool. I hardly dared look at the bundle strapped upon the thoroughbred's back, and yet I knew that when half my journey was done I should have to undertake a still more gruesome bit of business.

By two o'clock I was within sight of the well, as it was called. It was more like a deep pool than a well, however, and lay in the shadow of a high rock. It derived its name from a superstition that existed in the neighbourhood that on a certain night in every year the blacks came down and cleaned it out. It was one of the loneliest spots in the district, and as it lay in a barren region, remote from the principal stock and travelling route, it was not visited by the general public more than once or twice a year. A better place could not have been selected for burying the man Pete had killed.

On arrival at the rock I jumped off and secured the horses to a tree – then taking the shovel from the old pack horse's back I set off, clambering up among the rocks, on the look-out for a likely spot where I might dig the grave. At last, having discovered a place that I thought suitable, I set to work. The ground was hard, and nearly half-an-hour had elapsed before I had dug a deep enough hole for my purpose. Then putting down my shovel I went back to the well. The horses stood just as I had left them, and as soon as I had assured myself that there was not a soul about to spy upon me, I unstrapped the body and took it in my arms. However long I may live I shall never be able to rid myself of the horror of that moment. Having taken my ghastly burden in my arms, I set off, staggering and clambering up the hillside again till I found the grave I had dug. Then, when I had laid the body in it, I began hastily to cover it with earth. The sweat rolled off my face in streams before I had finished, but not so much with the labour as by reason of the horrible nature of my work. I hardly dared look at what was before me, but worked away with stubborn persistence until the greater part of the earth I had taken out was replaced. Then using the handle of the shovel as a lever, I wedged a big rock, a step or two up the hill, over on one side, worked round, and undermined it on the other, and finally rolled it down upon the grave itself. When this was done it was completely hidden from the most prying gaze, and I knew that every day would hide it better. Then giving a hasty glance round me to see that no one was about, and that I had left nothing behind me to furnish a clue, I picked up the shovel and set off, as hard as I could go, down the hill towards the horses. Arriving at the well, I threw the shovel into the pool and watched it disappear from view – then, untying my animals, I mounted, and, with a somewhat lightened heart, resumed my journey. The horses were cold with standing so long, and we soon made up for lost time, arriving at Judson's Boundary fence shortly before half-past two. One thing struck me as peculiar, and that was how Pete could have communicated with the man, but surely enough at the corner of the fence was an individual seated on a grey horse and evidently waiting for me.

'Good evening,' he said, in a gruff voice, as I rode up. 'A nice night for travelling – ain't it?'

'A very nice night,' I answered, looking him carefully over, 'and pray who are you waiting for?'

'For a messenger from Whispering Pete,' he answered. 'Is this the horse?'

I informed him that it was, and gave him the reins of The Unknown. He looked at him pretty closely, and then wheeled him round.

'Good night,' he said, 'and good luck to you. I've got a hundred miles to do before sundown.'

'Good night,' I cried in return, and then changing my course, set off across country for the place where I knew I should find the cattle. The sun was in the act of rising from the night fog when I made them out and rode up to the camp. The fire burnt brightly, and the cook was bustling about getting breakfast. Seeing me, Yates, who was not at all a bad sort of fellow, sat up in his blankets and stared, as well he might.

'Well, bless my soul, and how on earth did you get here?' he cried, 'and now you're here, what do you want? Anything wrong?'

'No, of course not; what on earth should make you think so?' I replied. 'Only I happened to be going to Bourke on business, so Pete asked me to come on and take charge. Here's a letter from him to you.'

I took Pete's note out of my pocket and handed it to him. Having torn it open, he read it through slowly. When he had done so he said, 'Well, I'm precious glad. It was against my will that I came at all; now I'm free, and all the responsibility, and in this dry season there's plenty of that, rests upon your shoulders and not on mine. I don't envy you!'

'I must take my chance,' I said. 'Now, supposing we have breakfast, and afterwards get on the move.'

Yates stared in surprise, for I must have looked more dead than alive after my long night ride, and all the excitement I had passed through.

'You don't mean to say you intend going on before you've had a rest,' he cried. 'Why, man, you're a death's head already. No, let's wait a bit and have a sleep; the cattle are on good feed and water, and, if all's true that I hear, they won't get any more like it on the other side of the border.'

'I don't want a rest,' I said, 'and if I do I can take it in the saddle as we go along. Tell one of the blackboys to run up the horses, will you? and then we'll have breakfast and start.'

'As you please, of course,' he said, but it was evident that he regarded my proposal in the light of madness. He was not very fond of work, was Mr Yates, and never had been since I had first known him, which was a matter of well nigh fifteen years.

In less than half-an-hour breakfast was ready, and, as soon as it was eaten, we mustered the cattle and got under way. It was not a very big mob, but the animals were all valuable, and in the pink of condition.

To those who have never seen a mob of cattle on the march, the picture they present would be a novel and exciting one. Imagine marching on ahead, day after day, as proud as a drum-major, some old bull, the leader of the mob; behind him are some hundreds of cattle; on either flank vigilant stockmen ride, ever on the look-out for stragglers; the drover in command and the rest of the party follow as whippers-in, while the cart containing the blankets, camp and cooking utensils, driven by the cook, travels on some miles ahead. The latter individual chooses the night's camp, prepares it, and has the evening meal cooked and ready by the time the mob puts in an appearance. After nightfall, a perpetual two hours' watch is kept by mounted men, while emergency horses are fastened near the camp to be ready in the event of a stampede or other trouble occurring.

Our journey, in this instance, was an uneventful one, lasting something like six weeks. When we reached Bourke, and had handed over our cattle to the agent for trucking to Sydney, our mission was accomplished. As soon, therefore, as I had obtained my receipt from Mr Phillips, the agent to whom the mob was consigned, I took the train to Sydney, and once there hunted about for a medium-sized class hotel where I could put up while I remained in the metropolis. A big city was a new experience to me, and you may be sure I made the most of my opportunity of seeing it; at the same time, I kept a watchful eye on the daily papers for anything that transpired at Barranda during my absence. But from what I could gather, nothing unusual seemed to have happened in that sleepy hollow; so I was gradually recovering my old peace of mind when I received a shock that knocked my feeling of security about my ears again. I had been to the theatre one night, I remember, and was standing outside the door, after the fall of the curtain, thinking about getting back to my hotel, when who should come along the pavement but Finnan, the One-eyed Doctor, himself, dressed in evening clothes, and looking as contented and happy as you please. He seemed a bit surprised, not to say nonplussed, at seeing me, but shook hands with every appearance of heartiness. Then putting his arm through mine, he led me into a side street.

'You managed that bit of business splendidly,' he said, when we were sure there was no one near enough to overhear us. 'Pete was delighted at the way you did it.'

'Has anything turned up about it yet?' I asked anxiously.

'Nothing important,' he answered. 'The Government are wondering what can have become of Jarman, who is supposed to have gone north, but the people in the township have discovered somehow that Pete is suspected of having stolen Gaybird. Of course, they all implicate you in it; and if I were you I should keep out of their way till the fuss blows over.'

This was unpleasant hearing with a vengeance, but I was not going to let him see that I thought it, so I said, —

'Where is Pete now?'

'Goodness only knows. He remained hanging about the township for a fortnight after you went away, just to allay suspicion, then he announced that he was off to buy cattle on the Diamintina. Since then he has not been heard of.'

'A nice kettle of fish he has let me in for,' I answered hotly. 'I can't say that I think he has acted at all like a man.'

'I don't know that I think he has acted altogether fairly towards you,' said the agreeable Doctor. 'However, what's done can't be undone; so I suppose we must make the best of it. Anything more to say? Nothing? Well, perhaps we'd better not be seen together for very long, so good night!'

I bade him good night, and having done so, walked slowly back to my hotel, wondering what was best to be done. To remain away from the township would look as if I were afraid of facing its inhabitants. And yet it was pretty dangerous work going back there. However, knowing my own innocence, I wasn't going to give them the right to call me guilty, so I determined to risk it, and accordingly next morning off I set for Bourke en route for the Cargoo again. In about a fortnight I had reached the township.

Darkness had fallen when I rode up the main street, and as I did not know quite what to do with myself now that I had no home to go to, I halted at the principal hotel and installed myself there. A good many men were in the bar when I entered, and from the way one and all looked at me, I could see that they were aware of the rumours that were afloat concerning me. However, nobody said anything on the subject, so I called for a glass of whiskey and, having drunk it, went into the dining-room, where about a dozen people were seated at the table. I took my place alongside a man I had known ever since we were kiddies together, and more for the sake of making myself agreeable than anything else, said 'good evening' to him. He replied civilly enough, but I could see that he did not care to be friendly, and, when he made an excuse and went round and sat on the other side of the table, I saw significant glances flash round the board. 'All right,' I thought to myself, 'I'll say nothing just now, but the first man who drops a hint about that horse or my connection with the race, I'll go for tooth and nail, if it costs me my life.' But never a hint was dropped, and when the meal was over I went out into the verandah to rage alone. I was in an unenviable position, and the worst part of it all was, I had nothing to thank for it but my own consummate obstinacy and stupidity.

About nine o'clock I filled my pipe afresh and set off for a stroll down the street, keeping my eyes open to see if any of my old friends would take notice of me. But no one did till I had almost left the township. Then an elderly man, by name Bolton, who kept one of the principal stores in Main Street, and had always been a special crony of mine, crossed the road and came towards me.

'Jim Heggarstone,' said he, when he got on to the footpath alongside me, 'I want to have a few words with you, if you don't mind.'

'I'm your man!' I answered. 'Shall we sit on the rail here, or would you rather walk along a bit?'

'No, let us sit here,' he replied, and as he spoke, mounted the fence; 'we're not likely to be interrupted, and I don't know that it would matter particularly if we were. Look here, Jim, I've always been your friend, and I am now. But certain things have been said about you of late in the township that I tell you frankly are not to your credit. What I want is authority to deny them on your behalf.'

'You must first tell me what they are,' I answered; 'you can't expect a chap to go about explaining his actions every time a township like this takes it into its head to invent a bit of tittle-tattle against him. What have they to say against me? Out with it.'

'Well, in the first place, they say that Whispering Pete on the hill up yonder knew that the horse he raced as The Unknown was Gaybird, the winner of the Victorian Grand National and the Sydney Steeplechase. Do you think that's true?'

'How can I say? He may or may not have known it. But I don't see that it has anything to do with me if he did?'

'No! Perhaps not! But you will when I tell you that it's also said that you were aware of it too, and that you laid your plans accordingly.'

'Whoever says that tells a deliberate falsehood,' I cried angrily. 'I did not know it. If I had I would rather have died than have ridden him.'

'I know that, Jim,' he answered, 'and so I have always said. Now, if you will let me, I'll call the next man who says so a liar to his face, on your behalf.'

'So you shall, and I'll ram it down his throat with my fist afterwards. This has been a bad business for me, Bolton. In the first place, I have been kicked out of doors by my father for riding that race, and now my character is being taken away in this shabby fashion for a thing I'm quite innocent of.'

'You ought never to have got in tow with Whispering Pete, Jim.'

'Nobody knows that better than I do!' I cried bitterly. 'But it's too late to alter it now.'

'Well, good night. And keep your heart up. Things will come right yet. And remember, Jim, I'm your friend through all.'

We shook hands, and having done so, the kind-hearted fellow went his way down the street while I strolled on as far as the McLeods' homestead. There was a light shining from the sitting-room window, and I could hear the music of a piano. Then Sheilah's pretty voice came out to me singing a song, of which I am very fond. The words are Kingsley's, I believe, and the last verse seemed so appropriate to my case, that it brought a lump into my throat that almost choked me. It ran as follows: —

 
When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown,
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down,
Creep home, and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among;
God grant you find one face there
You loved when all was young.
 

CHAPTER VI
COLIN McLEOD

Next morning as soon as I had finished my breakfast I put on my hat and went down to McLeod's selection, resolved to find out once and for all in what sort of light I stood with Sheilah. In my own inmost heart I knew that I deserved to be shown the door on presenting myself, but somehow I had a sort of conviction that my fate would not be quite as hard as that. Reaching the gate, I let myself in, and walked down the path, under the little avenue of pepper-trees, that entwined overhead, to the house. Everything was just as I had left it, but, oh, how different were my own feelings!

I found old McLeod on his knees in the verandah fastening up some creepers that had fallen out of place. When he saw me he rose and without a second thought came forward and shook me warmly by the hand.

'Welcome home, James, my lad,' said he, looking me full and square in the face, 'I'm glad ye've come back to us, and so will Sheilah be, ye may depend. Ye've been a long time away.'

This kindly reception was more than I had bargained for, and like the big baby I was I felt the hot tears rise and flood my eyes. There was that in my heart then which would have made me lay down my life for old McLeod if need have been. That was always the way with me, I could be brought to do anything by kindness, when force could not make me budge an inch. For the self-same reason old Betty at home had always been able to manage me – my father never.

'Mr McLeod,' said I, as I returned the pressure of the hand he held out to me, a hand that was as knotted and gnarled as any ti-tree in the scrub, 'after all that has happened this is a generous way for you to receive me. Do you know that only one soul in the township up yonder has spoken to me since my return.'

'I'm sorry to hear that, James,' said he, seating himself in a chair near by, and mopping his forehead with his red pocket-handkerchief. 'No young man can afford to lose his friends in that extravagant fashion.'

'Do you know the charge they bring against me?'

'I have heard it,' he answered, looking straight at me. 'But I think it only right to ye to say that I do not believe it all the same.'

'It is not true, so help me, God,' I burst out impetuously. 'If I had dreamt that the horse had been stolen I would no more have ridden him in that race than I would have shot him. I hope you know me well enough to believe that, Mr McLeod.'

'I think I do,' he answered; 'at any rate, this has been a lesson that should last you all your life.'

'It has,' I answered bitterly; 'but all the same I don't think I have been at all fairly treated over it. Whispering Pete was generous to me, and when he asked me to do him the favour of riding his horse I could not refuse. Then I was told by my father that he would turn me out of doors if I did not obey him. But having given my promise to Pete, how could I be expected to break it again?'

'James, James,' the old man said, when I had finished, 'the devil had ye in a tight place just then, and ye ought to thank God right down on your bended knees that He has permitted ye to come out of it as well as ye have. I shall say a word for ye next Sunday, and if ye'll mind what's right ye'll be there to hear it.'

'That I will,' I answered, completely carried away by the good old man's earnestness. 'Mr McLeod, you've treated me as I did not expect I should be treated, and I'll never forget it as long as I live. Now, may I see Sheilah?'

'And why not, laddie? Of course ye may, and right glad the lassie will be to have ye back again, I'll warrant. She's out with her chickens just now, I fancy, for I saw her going down the path with her egg basket on her arm but a wee bit since. Go and find her, and hear for yourself what she has to say to ye.'

I went round the verandah, passed Sheilah's own window, with its little cluster of pot plants on the sill, and then down the path towards the fowl-yard. True enough, there she was, dressed all in white, with her pretty face looking out from the large blue sun-bonnet she always wore on summer mornings. At first she did not see me, so I stood still watching her. One thing I can always assert, and that is that I have seen many pretty girls in my time, but never one to equal Sheilah. There was a softness and natural grace about her that was beyond the power of other girls to imitate; a grace which could never have been taught in any school or dancing academy. And as I watched my heart rose in love to her, then I suppose I must have made some noise among the bushes, for she suddenly turned round and stood face to face with me. As she saw me a glad smile leapt into her face, and she ran towards me with hands outstretched in welcome.

'Jim, dear old Jim,' she cried, 'I knew you would come back to us before long. Oh, I have missed you so dreadfully! Remember, you have been away nearly two months.'

'Don't, Sheilah!' I cried, 'don't speak so kindly to me. Scold me a little or I shall make a fool of myself, I know.'

'Scold you!' she cried, with her little hands in mine. 'Scold you, old Jim, when you're only just come back to us. Oh no, no! This is, indeed, a happy day. Have you seen my father? He was talking of you only this morning.'

'I left him to come to you. His welcome was as warm as yours. Oh, Sheilah, I feel that I have been such a brute to you. And it hurts me the more because I know you will so freely forgive me.'

'Hush, we will not talk of that. All that part of your life is done with and put away. It was a miserable time for all of us, but thank goodness it's over.'

Just at that moment a young man appeared from the fowl-house and came towards us with some eggs in his hand.

'I can find no more,' he said to Sheilah. Then he looked at me with a searching glance, and did not seem altogether pleased.

'Jim,' said Sheilah, noticing my surprise, 'this is my cousin, Colin McLeod, who has come up to be our new trooper in Barranda. He has only been eighteen months in the Colonies, and was sent out from Brisbane last week. Colin, this is my old playfellow of whom you have so often heard me speak, Jim Heggarstone.'

We nodded to each other, and when I saw that he was going to make the eggs he held an excuse for not shaking hands with me, I put my own in my pockets, and stared hard at him. He was a fine, well-set-up young fellow of about my own age, with blue eyes and peculiar sandy-coloured hair.

'Now,' said Sheilah, who must have noticed that it was not all plain sailing with us, 'suppose we go inside and see what my father is doing. He intended to brand some colts this morning, and if he does I expect you'd like to help him in the yard, Jim?'

'Of course I should,' I answered readily enough. 'I'm pining to get to work again.'

'You have not been doing much work lately, then,' says Mr Colin, with a shadow of a sneer.

'I've just returned from taking a mob of cattle down to Bourke,' I answered.

'Ah!' was his sole reply, and then we went into the house.

Half-an-hour later I was with old McLeod in the yards, had the fire for heating the branding-irons lighted, and was running the green hide lasso through my hands to see that it was supple and ready for use. I don't want to boast, seeing that, all things considered, I'd far better be holding my tongue, but lassoing was a thing I could challenge any man in the country at. However, I was not so successful on this occasion. Whether it was Colin McLeod sitting on the rails watching me, or whether it was that I was out of practice, I cannot say; I only know that time after time I missed, and on each occasion, as the noose fell to the ground, I saw the sneer spread out on Colin's face, and once I could have sworn I heard him chuckle. But I managed to keep my temper under control. Then my old skill suddenly returned, and after a while I could not miss a beast. But here I must do Colin justice. For a new chum he was as good a man in the yard as ever I've met, being quiet and gentle with the beasts, and, what is still more to the point, always ready to do what he was told. He only wanted practice to make a really good hand. I found occasion to tell him so when the work was finished, and I could have bitten my tongue out with vexation when he replied with his long Scotch drawl, still with the same diabolical sneer on his face, —

'Ye see, I've not had so much experience with horses as ye've had, Mr Heggarstone.'

It was plain to what he referred, and it took me all my time, I can assure you, to prevent my tongue from replying something sharp. However, I had no desire to celebrate my return to the selection by thrashing the owner's nephew, so I did manage to control myself, and side by side we returned to the house. At first, seeing how things stood, I was for going back to the township for lunch, but of this neither Sheilah nor her father would hear. So I was forced to stay where I was and endure the other man's treatment as best I could. One thing was very plain, and that was that Colin was madly in love with Sheilah. He could hardly take his eyes off her, almost trembled when he addressed her, lost no opportunity of doing her little services, and glared madly at me whenever I spoke to her or attempted to do anything for her. It was a queer sight, and one that was not calculated to fill me with pleasure, you may be sure. At last, after the mid-day meal was over, his conduct became so outrageous that I made the first excuse that suggested itself and said good-bye, promising to come down again next day. As I shook hands with her, Sheilah looked at me with rather a wistful expression on her face, I thought; while even old McLeod seemed to wonder that my first visit should terminate so abruptly. To tell the truth, however, I could not have bottled up my feelings another minute; so rather than make an exhibition of myself I preferred to go away.

Back I went to the hotel, my whole being raging against the man. In the face of this rivalry I learned what Sheilah really was to me, and for the first time I understood how I should feel if any man were to win her from me.

Next day, according to promise, I went down to the selection again, to find Sheilah sitting in the verandah. She was alone and received me very sweetly. I sat beside her talking of old days, and firmly resolved not to let her imagine that I had been in any way put out by her cousin's curious behaviour on the preceding day.

'We must celebrate your return in some way, Jim,' she said after a little while. 'It is a lovely morning, so what do you say to a ride?'

'The very thing!' I answered, only too thankful to do anything that would take me away from the house, and prevent my seeing the irate Colin again.

With that we went out to the back, and borrowing the milkboy's pony, I ran up two horses from the paddock for our use. After I had rubbed them down a bit I saddled them, and by the time I had done this Sheilah was dressed and ready. With a thrill running through me such as I had never known before, I swung her up into the saddle, and then mounted my own beast; after that, when the boy had let down the slip rails, away we went across the plains towards the hills. It was as lovely a morning as any man could wish to be out in. The soft breeze rustled among the trees and high grass, the clouds chased each other across the blue vault of heaven, the air was musical with birds, and now and again we would put up a kangaroo and send him hopping away from us as if his very life depended upon it. Sheilah was in the best of spirits and looked incomparably sweet and graceful. Just swaying to the motion of her horse as he covered the ground in a gentle canter, her body well balanced and her head thrown back, the wind nodding the feather in her pretty hat, and just a suspicion of a neat little boot showing beneath her habit, she made a picture pretty enough for a king. And now that Colin McLeod had come to make me understand how much I really loved her, I was induced to notice her beauties even more closely than before.