CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
A FRIGHT.
The position was startling in the extreme, and all the tales he hadheard on shipboard and at home, as well as in the letters he hadreceived from his sisters, respecting the blacks, flashed into his mind.He knew how dangerous they were, and the enmity some of them boretoward the white invaders of their shores; and though he could seenothing but the man's face, he felt certain that, hidden by the grass,the black would have his spear with its hardened point--a weapon thesemen could throw as unerringly as the peculiar boomerang which would bestuck in his waistband to balance the deadly nulla-nulla--themelon-shaped club carved from a hard-wood root, whose stem formed thehandle.
And as these thoughts ran through Nic's mind he kept his eyes fixed uponthe bright dark eyes of the black, every nerve upon the strain, everymuscle strung, and ready for action. For in those painful moments Nichad determined to "die game," as he called it in schoolboy parlance,living as he did in days when a brutal sport was popular. At the firstmovement made by the black Nic meant to spring upon his gun, and haveone shot for his life; but he remained motionless, trying to stare theman down, and in the faint hope that Leather might come back, and theblack shrink from attacking one who faced him.
"Wild beasts shrink away, so why should not wild men?" thought Nic.
And so they lay there each upon his chest, watching one another, Nichaving a fine opportunity for studying the native's rugged features andshaggy hair and beard. Every now and then there was a rapid winking ofthe eyes; but their fierce stare seemed to be uninterrupted, and causeda peculiar kind of aching and twitching at the back of Nic's eyeballs,as moment by moment he expected the man would attack.
At last the strain began to be greater than the boy could bear. He haddeveloped an intense friendship all at once for Leather, and lookedvainly again for his presence there; he would have shouted for him, buthe felt that in the immense space around his feeble cry would not beheard, and that out there in that savage land he was, early as itseemed, to have his first lesson in the settler's duty--namely, to fendfor himself.
For Nic could bear the horrible state of suspense no longer. He feltthat he must fight for his life, and that after all the odds were fair.His enemy was a full-grown, sturdy savage, doubtless well armed, whilehe was only a boy, but he had the help of one of civilised man's mostdeadly weapons to balance matters.
Then he felt that there was no balance in the matters for the black hadhis weapons ready, while he had left his gun out of his reach.
"Only let me escape this time," thought Nic, in a despairing way, "andI'll never do such a foolish thing again."
The sun beat down upon him, the air around quivered in the heat, and thelocusts kept up a loud chirruping, jarring note which grew maddening.Then from far away there came faintly the melancholy _baa_ of a sheepcalling plaintively to its missing companions, and directlyafter what Nic took to be the call of some wild bird in thedistance--_coo-way_--_coo-way_--and this was answered faintly fromfarther off.
The next moment Nic had grasped the fact that it was no bird-call; forthe black's face was puckered up, his eyes nearly closed as his mouthopened, and he repeated the cry in a wild, shrill, ringing tone twicemore, and then his mouth shut with an audible snap, and he remainedperfectly still again, watching the boy.
But Nic could bear no more. This brought matters to a crisis. It wasthe savage's _cooey_, and it meant that others were coming to join thisman. So the boy felt that he must either attack or retreat.
To retreat meant to invite attack, and in his desperation Nic determinedthat the braver plan and the one more likely to prove successful was totake the initiative, and to do this he began slowly and cautiously tostretch out one hand towards his gun.
In an instant the black's eyes twinkled, and there was a movement in thegrass as of some animal gliding through it.
"Getting his spear," thought Nic, with his heart beating frantically, ashe drew himself sidewise toward the piece.
As he expected, the black moved too, but only as shown by the motion ofthe herbage. In fact, there were moments before the boy began to exerthimself when it seemed to him that there was that fierce black headbefore him and nothing more, and that the whole scene was nightmare-likeand unreal.
But with the action all became terribly substantial. He was reachingfor his deadly weapon, so was the black, or to get himself into a betterposition for assault. And as Nic with throbbing breast drew slowlynearer, never once taking his eyes from those of his foe, the knittedbrows and shining black face seemed to approach.
But he knew it was only an optical illusion caused by the intense strainupon his eyes; and feeling that quick action was necessary, he made asudden spring to his right and grasped the gun, with which he leaped tohis feet, just as the black also bounded up with a long, quivering spearin his hand, while there, plainly seen in the narrow band about hiswaist, were the boomerang and club.
Click went Nic's gun trigger, as a thrill of confidence ran through him,and, holding the piece at the ready, he presented it at the black'sbreast.
At this the man made a bound backward, and throwing himself into anattitude, he levelled his spear, as if about to hurl it and pierce Nicthrough.
"I wish I knew nigger," thought Nic, getting more confident; "I'd tellhim if he'd go away I would not fire."
But no word was spoken on either side, white and black standingmotionless in their attitudes of menace, eye fixed on eye, as if eachwere ready to shoot or hurl spear at the slightest movement made by theother.
The situation at last became so irksome that Nic could bear it nolonger, and in a hoarse voice he cried:
"Now then, be off, and I won't shoot."
To his surprise the black shouldered his spear, and then obeyed a signNic made with the barrel of his gun, turning round and beginning tomarch away, slowly followed by the boy, who felt that if driven toextremities he could easily hit the broad, shiny back before him, withthe muscles playing elastically at every step the man took.
"He understood the sign I made," thought Nic, who determined to keepnear the black for fear of treachery, as the man strode on in and outamong the trees, while a fresh idea now struck Nic. Suppose the man wasgoing on to join his companions who had cooeyed to him. It was likewalking into additional danger. Still the boy did not flinch, for fearof receiving a spear in the back if he turned away.
But he was master for the moment; and growing more and more confident,he strode on behind the black, heedless of the direction in which theywent, and leaving the end of the case to fate. All he hoped was that,sooner or later, the savage would suddenly make a dash for his liberty,when the boy fully determined to scare him by firing over his head, tomake him run the harder.
Nic had some idea that they were bearing toward his home, but he couldsee nothing but park-like trees and low wattle bushes; and after thisstrange procession had continued for some time he began to grow uneasy,and to think of taking out his pocket compass to try and make out hisbearings, before stopping short in the first open place to let the blackgo on out of sight, covered meanwhile by the gun, when, just as thesufficiently open place was reached, there came a hoarse cooey fromsomewhere close at hand.
Nic stopped short, feeling that he had walked right into the lion'smouth; and standing ready, with his eyes wandering round, waiting forthe enemy, he listened to the black's reply.
The next minute the black faced round, and the rustling of bushes wasfollowed by the appearance of a second figure thirty yards away.
Nic threw up his gun, not to his shoulder, but over it; for the figurewas that of the stock man, Brookes, who shouted:
"Oh, there you are, young gentleman. Your mar's getting in a orful way.She sent Bungarolo to look after you, and then, as he didn't come back,she sent me."
"Oh!" groaned Nic, in a tone of disgust; for all his bravery, as hethought it, had been thrown away, and a peculiar sensation ofself-humiliation and shame came ever him.
"Yes, here
I am, Brookes," he said. "Then this is a tame black?"
"Tame un?" said the man, with a chuckle. "Oh no, he's wild enough; Inever see one on 'em yet as you could tame. No tame man would go aboutwithout trousers when he's had two pair give him to my sartainknowledge. He's one as hangs about sometimes."
"But I mean he is not one of the more dangerous blacks?"
"Oh no, I think not, sir--so long as you treat him well, and he getstreated right enough with soft tack and mutton. He comes to see ourother two as you know."
"But does his tribe live about here?"
"I dunno, sir. Nobody does know. These chaps is like the cockatoos:they swarm about the place one day, and next day there isn't one, andyou might go for a hundred miles and never see one of their blessedheads. He's wild enough. Hangs about the place, and does a bit of workif he likes it. If he don't, he goes. These blacks is, to my mind, theonly real gents as there is. Look at him now. He don't want no clothesnor no house, only a hut, as he makes out of a few bits o' bark andcalls a gunyah, perhaps only a mia-mia."
"What's a mia-mia?" said Nic.
"Sort of a hurdle thing as he puts up for shelter, and to keep the windfrom blowing his fire away. Then as to clothes--look at him now."
Nic turned to look, but the black had disappeared, and ten minutes laterhe passed out of the thick growth to come in sight of the house, outsidewhich Mrs Braydon was standing, watching anxiously for the return ofher son.
"I wish he had been a real savage though, after all," thought Nic. "Itwould have been far better fun."
Perhaps!
First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales Page 18
