The Pioneers
Page 32
CHAPTER XXXII
When McNab awakened in the morning, he realised that his sleep had beentoo heavy for him to know what had happened during the night, and thatmuch might have occurred while he was snoring.
Farrel found him snapping and biting like a trapped dingo. His voicerasped; his inquisitive, suspicious eyes were everywhere. But theSchoolmaster had none of the air of a victorious gamester, and Deirdre'samiability was of a pattern with what he had imagined it the nightbefore. He had heard Davey and Conal ride out at dawn with a cracking ofwhips and yelping of dogs to wake the saints. That seemed to negativethe suggestion that they had been out all night. They were going tomuster a couple of hundred of Maitland's cattle in some paddocks nearRed Creek, he remembered the Schoolmaster had said.
Yet by the cold light of early morning, he had an unaccountablesensation of having been tricked. What with the girl's smiles andSteve's grog he had not been as wide awake as he had intended to be, heknew. Farrel's readiness to consider the school proposition irritatedhim. It had been a pretext; his only anxiety was not to discuss it anymore. He was all fret and fume to get back to the Wirree. Nothing wouldstay him.
When he was up in his high-seated spring-cart, there was none of thecomplaisant geniality of the night before about him. He gathered up hisreins with a sour smile at the little group assembled on Steve'sverandah and drove out of sight at a jolting jog-trot.
"The boys got the mob?" Steve asked anxiously.
The Schoolmaster took off his hat with a sigh.
"Had the time of their lives!" he exclaimed. "It was a big mob--rollingfat."
Deirdre's eyes were still on the track down which McNab had gone to theWirree.
"I won't say good-bye, Deirdre," he had said, as his eyes rested on herfor a moment. "I'll be seein' you again soon."
There had been something in the nature of a promise--or a threat--in hiseyes.
"There was no time to fix brands," the Schoolmaster was telling Steve."Conal's running these with a couple of score of Maitland's storebeasts. Drafted out about fifty calves, clear skins and a couple ofdozen cows, put them into the Narrow Valley run--wants to do somebranding when he gets back. I thought he ought to let them go with thehalf-dozen scrubbers turned back to the bush, but he wouldn't have it;says he can take them along, branded, with Maitland's next bunch."
"It's a bit risky leavin' them there."
Steve's glance wandered in the direction of the valley lying to thewestward between the last line of hills that shut the shanty in from thelong roll of inland plains.
"It's a bit risky," he repeated. "But Conal knows his business. It'll beall right, I suppose. There's nobody goes Narrow Valley way butCameron's men, and they're not likely to be going this time of theyear--seeing the rains are due. Conal had a look at the fences when hewas up a couple of days ago, didn't he? Though fences aren't much good.Seen a wild cow fly like a bird when she wants to. Good thing Conal gotaway before the rains, Dan. If the rivers were down he'd never've gotthrough."
"Yes," said the Schoolmaster. "It was a case of now or never."
"And, after all," he added gravely, putting his arm out and drawing herto him, "it was Deirdre saved the situation. But I wouldn't have you dowhat you did again, dear, not for all the cattle in the world, nor allthe money in it."
She clung to him.
"And I wouldn't do it," she sobbed, breathlessly.