"There's a many things I can turn my hand to, Mr. Jerry. You couldn't give a fellow such a thing as a n.o.bbler, Mr. Jerry, could you? I'd offer money for it, only I know it would be taken amiss. It's that hot that a fellow's very in'ards get parched up."

Upon this Jerry slowly rose, and going to a cupboard, brought forth a modic.u.m of spirits, which he called Battle-Axe, but which was supposed to be brandy. This Boscobel swallowed at a gulp, and then washed it down with a little water.

"Come, Jerry," said the old man, somewhat relenting in his wrath, "you might as well give us a drop, as it's going about." The two brothers, who had now been thoroughly aroused from their sleep, and who had heard the enticing sound of the spirit bottle, joined the party, and so they drank all round.

"Heathcote's in an awful state about them fires, ain't he?" asked Jerry.

Boscobel, who had squatted down on the veranda, and was now lighting his pipe, bobbed his head.

"I wish he was clean burned out--over head and ears," said Jerry.

Boscobel bobbed his head again, sucking with great energy at the closely staffed pipe.

"If he treated me like he does you fellows," continued Jerry, "he shouldn't have a yard of fencing or a blade of gra.s.s left--nor a ewe, nor a lamb, nor a hogget. I do hate fellows who come here and want to be better than any one about 'em--young chaps especially. Sending up here to look for sheep-skins, cuss his impudence! I sent that German fellow of his away with a flea in his ear."

"Karl Bender?"

"It's some such name as that."

"He's all in all with the young squire," said Boscobel. "And there's a chap there called Jacko--he's another. He gets 'em down there to Gangoil, and the ladies talks to 'em, and then they'd go through fire and water for him. There's Mickey--he's another, jist the same way. I don't like them ways, myself."

"Too much of master and man about it, ain't there, Bos?"

"Just that, Mr. Jerry. That ain't my idea of a free country. I can work as well as another, but I ain't going to be told that I'm a swindler because I'm making the most of my time."

"He turned Nokes out by the scruff of his neck?" said Jerry. Boscobel again bobbed his head. "I didn't think Nokes was the sort of fellow to stand that."

"No more he ain't," said Boscobel.

"Heathcote's a good plucked un all the same," said Joe.

"It's like you to speak up for such a fellow is that," said Jerry.

"I say he's a good plucked un. I'm not standing up for him. Nokes is half a stone heavier than him, and ought to have knocked him over.

That's what you'd've done, wouldn't you, Bos? I know I would."

"He'd 've had my axe at his head," said Boscobel.

"We all know Joe's game to the backbone," said Jerry.

"I'm game enough for you, anyway," said the brother. "And you can try it out any time you like."

"That's right; fight like dogs, do," said the old man.

The quarrel at this point was interrupted by the arrival of another man, who crept up round the corner on to the veranda exactly as Boscobel had done. This was Nokes, of whom they had that moment been speaking. There was silence for a few moments among them, as though they feared that he might have heard them, and Nokes stood hanging his head as though half ashamed of himself. Then they gave him the same kind of greeting as the other men had received. n.o.body told him that he was welcome, but the spirit jar was again brought into use, Jerry measuring out the liquor, and it was understood that Nokes was to stay there and get his food. He too gave some account of himself, which was supposed to suffice, but which they all knew to be false.

It was Sunday, and they were off work at the sugar-mill. He had come across Gangoil run, intending to take back with him things of his own which he had left as Bender's hut, and having come so far, had thought that he would come on and get his dinner at Boolabong. As this was being told, a good deal was said of Harry Heathcote. Nokes declared that he had come right across Gangoil, and explained that he would not have been at all sorry to meet Master Heathcote in the bush. Master Heathcote had had his own way up at the station when he was backed by a lot of his own hands; but a good time was coming, perhaps. Then Nokes gave it to be understood very plainly that it was the settled practice of his life to give Harry Heathcote a thrashing.

During all this there was an immense amount of bad language, and a large portion of the art which in the colony is called "blowing."

Jerry, Boscobel, and Nokes all boasted, each that on the first occasion he would give Harry Heathcote such a beating that a whole bone should hardly be left in the man's skin.

"There isn't one of you man enough to touch him," said Joe, who was known as the freest fighter of the Brownbie family.

"And you'd eat him, I suppose," said Jerry.

"He's not likely to come in my way," said Joe; "but if he does, he'll get as good as he brings. That's all."

This was unpleasant to the visitors, who, of course, felt themselves to be snubbed. Boscobel affected to hear the slight put upon his courage with good humor, but Nokes laid himself down in a corner and sulked. They were soon all asleep, and remained dozing, snoring, changing their uncomfortable positions, and cursing the mosquitoes, till about four in the afternoon, when Boscobel got up, shook himself, and made some observation about "grub." The meal of the day was then prepared. A certain quant.i.ty of flour and raw meat, ample for their immediate wants, was given to the two strangers, with which they retired into the outer kitchen, prepared it for themselves, and there ate their dinner, and each of the brothers did the same for himself in the big room--Joe, the fighting brother, providing for his father's wants as well as his own. One of them had half a leg of cold mutton, so that he was saved the trouble of cooking, but he did not offer to share this comfort with the others. An enormous kettle of tea was made, and that was common among them. While this was being consumed, Boscobel put his head into the room, and suggested that he and his mate wanted a drink. Whereupon Jerry, without a word, pointed to the kettle, and Boscobel was allowed to fill two pannikins. Such was the welcome which was always accorded to strangers in Boolabong.

After their meal the men came back on to the veranda, and there were more smoking and sleeping, more boasting and snarling. Different allusions were made to the spirit jar, especially by the old man; but they were made in vain. The "Battle-Axe" was Jerry's own property, and he felt that he had already been almost foolishly liberal. But he had an object in view. He was quite sure that Boscobel and Nokes had not come to Boolabong on the same Sunday by any chance coincidence.

The men had something to propose, and in their own way they would make the proposition before they left, and would make it probably to him. Boscobel intended to sleep at Boolabong, but Nokes had explained that it was his purpose to return that night to Medlicot's Mill. The proposition no doubt would be made soon--a little after seven, when the day was preparing to give way suddenly to night. Nokes first walked off, sloping out from the veranda in a half-shy, half-cunning manner, looking nowhither, and saying a word to no one. Quickly after him Boscobel jumped up suddenly, hitched up his trowsers, and followed the first man. At about a similar interval Jerry pa.s.sed out through the big room to the yard at the back, and from the yard to a shed that was used as a shambles. Here he found the other two men, and no doubt the proposition was made.

"There's something up," said the old man, as soon as Jerry was gone.

"Of course there's something up," said Joe. "Those fellows didn't come all the way to Boolabong for nothing."

"It's something about young Heathcote," suggested the father.

"If it is," said Jack, "what's that to you?"

"They'll get themselves hanged, that's all about it."

"That be blowed," said Jack; "you go easy and hold your tongue. If you know nothing, n.o.body can hurt you."

"I know nothing," said Joe, "and don't mean. If I had scores to quit with a fellow like Harry Heathcote, I should do it after my own fashion. I shouldn't get Boscobel to help me, nor yet such a fellow as Nokes. But it's no business of mine. Heathcote's made the place too hot to hold him. That's all about it." There was no more said, and in an hour's time Jerry returned, to the family. Neither the father nor brother asked him any questions, nor did he volunteer any information.

Boolabong was about fourteen miles from Medlicot's Mill. Nokes had walked this distance in the morning, and now retraced it at night--not going right across Gangoil, as he had falsely boasted of doing early in the day, but skirting it, and keeping on the outside of the fence nearly the whole distance. At about two in the morning he reached his cottage outside the mill on the river-bank; but he was unable to skulk in unheard. Some dogs made a noise, and presently he heard a voice calling him from the house. "Is that you, Nokes, at this time of night?" asked Mr. Medlicot. Nokes grunted out some reply, intending to avoid any further question. But his master came up to the hut door and asked him where he had been.

"Just amusing myself," said Nokes.

"It's very late."

"It's not later for me than for you, Mr. Medlicot."

"That's true. I've just ridden home from

"From Gangoil? I didn't know you were so friendly there, Mr.

Medlicot."

"And where have you been?"

"Not to Gangoil, anyway. Good-night, Mr. Medlicot." Then the man took himself into his hut, and was safe from further questioning that night.

CHAPTER VII.

"I WISH YOU'D LIKE ME."