Queensland Cousins

by Eleanor Luisa Haverfield

  CHAPTER VII.

  PETER'S NIGHTMARE.

  Some nights before Sinkum Fung was sitting in his store waiting forcustomers. His best trade was always in the evening, when thecoolies' work was over, and they had time to do some shopping. Butit was getting late, and Sinkum thought it about time to close thestore and go to bed. Suddenly there fell a shadow across thethreshold, and a big black-fellow entered--a stranger whom SinkumFung had never seen before. What had he come to buy? Sinkum askedpolitely. But the black-fellow had come to buy nothing--he had afierce, wild face, and his voice made Sinkum tremble when he saidhe had not come to buy, but to sell. He declared his name to beJaga-Jaga of the great "Rat clan" now living in the Bush not faraway. He had found, he said, a white man hanging in a tree, caughtand held fast by the dreadful "wait-a-bit" cane that will swinground man or beast at a touch, and hold them fast till they die ofexposure and starvation. This man was dead, and on his body,Jaga-Jaga said, he discovered sundry things which he now brought tothe store to sell. What would Sinkum Fung give for them? Thepayment must be made in food, for the tribe were nearly starving.Food was difficult to procure in the intense heat; the ground wasarid and unproductive.

  Sinkum examined the goods; he made his offer; whereat the wild manswung his boomerang disagreeably, and indicated that he must have"more, more." Tears of self-pity flooded Sinkum's eyes. He had nochoice but to obey, and at last the black-fellow left with a sackcontaining ten times the value of the goods the storeman had beenforced to buy. He had been cheated, cruelly used; he was a poorman, and could not stand such losses. The things were of novalue--none; but if he had not bought them he would have been adead man.

  Sinkum's hands were no longer in his sleeves--he had made dramaticpasses, illustrative of the fearful fate that might have befallenhim.

  It presented to Eustace's mind a vivid picture--the black-fellowwith poised boomerang standing over the shrinking Chinkee,threatening his life if he did not obey the exorbitant demands.

  To Mrs. Orban came another thought. There apparently really wereblack-fellows in the neighbourhood--a whole tribe living in theBush.

  The story of the poor white man strung up in the wood made thelisteners shudder. Such a thing had never come into theirexperience, but they knew the terrible possibility of it. Many aman has been so detained in the Bush, riding inadvertently againstthe "wait-a-bit" or "lawyer cane." It springs round its victim likea coiled spring, and he is helpless to free himself if his armshappen to be pinioned. Who could this particular poor fellow havebeen, found not far from the plantation? No one would ever know,Mrs. Orban reflected pitifully.

  "And what were the things you had to buy, Sinkum Fung?" askedEustace, with intense interest.

  Sinkum searched amongst his curious garments and produced a handfulof things, which he set solemnly down upon the table beside Mrs.Orban, watching her narrowly, to see what effect his actionproduced.

  She gave a start of surprise.

  "Why," said Eustace, springing to his feet, "this is the servants'jewellery, and their watches. The black-fellow never got them offany dead white man at all; he stole them straight out of ourhouse."

  Sinkum nodded drearily.

  So he had discovered, he said. When too late he had heard ofthe reward for the catching of that black-fellow. He couldonly claim the reward for returning the goods; but surely thegood missee would not let him lose so much. He had given tentimes the value of those things, and thus only had he savedthem from the black-fellow.

  In his endeavour to point out that it was due to him, and himalone, the jewellery had reappeared, Sinkum Fung next fellinto raptures over his own deeds. Had he but known that misseewanted the black-fellow too, he would have given his greatesttreasure--his fine long pig-tail--to have detained him. He madethe statement with a great air of devotion--a Chinaman does notpart lightly with his pig-tail.

  But no amount of assurances would prevail on Mrs. Orban to give theman more than the promised regard. Any further claim he might haveto make, she said, must be made to Mr. Orban on his return. SinkumFung went away in a transparently aggrieved frame of mind.

  "Mother," Eustace said, as soon as the man's footsteps died awayround the veranda, "did you believe his story about theblack-fellow?"

  "At first, yes," Mrs. Orban admitted. "I dare say such a thing isquite possible. I pictured the black-fellow bringing in a walletcontaining the poor traveller's kit, a worn leather belt, withperhaps some money in it, a pipe and pouch."

  "Yes, that is what I expected," said Eustace.

  "Then one could have believed that Sinkum Fung might be taken in bythe tale," Mrs. Orban went on; "but never tell me he believed itwhen he saw those trinkets. They are not the sort of things aBushman would be carrying about with him, and Sinkum knows that aswell as I do. He is no simpleton. His mistake was that he thought Imight be one, and he overreached himself in his description of theferocious Jaga-Jaga."

  "You don't even think Sinkum was terrified into buying the things?"Eustace asked.

  Mrs. Orban shook her head and smiled.

  "I very much doubt it," she said. "Indeed, I am inclined to fancythe thief was no black-fellow at all now. It is just as likely hewas a Malay or Manila boy from the plantation, and Sinkum Fung isin collusion with him. They will probably go shares in the reward;but Sinkum meant to make as much more out of me for himself as hepossibly could."

  "My word! if the other fellow comes again," said Eustace, "don't Ijust hope we shall catch him."

  "I am sure I hope and trust he will not come again," said Mrs.Orban gravely. "We have had quite as many disturbances already as Ifeel inclined for."

  Mary and Kate were delighted to get back their belongings, and madeno further reference to running away. They felt more secure withthe Robertson family living in the house. Besides, a letter fromMr. Orban stated that he was getting through his business quickerthan he had expected, and he should only now wait for Miss Chase'sboat from England, because she would need an escort up country.

  This cheered every one immensely. It was something to look forwardto, and the days began to go quicker and more brightly.

  Then Nesta and Peter came home full of all their doings at theHighlands, and this made a great difference to the house. Eustacedid not know he could have been so glad to see his brother andsister; it was not till they came back that he realized how dull hehad really been without them.

  The Robertsons still stayed. Nesta slept with her mother, and thethree boys were in the next room.

  Nesta knew a good deal about the excitements that had been takingplace at home. It was thought useless to try and hush the matterup. Something was bound to slip out in the course of conversation,and so she was given the lightest possible version of the theft,ending with an amusing account of Sinkum Fung's visit.

  Of course Bob brought the children over, and to Eustace's intensegratitude, when it came to the story of the bogus scare, and Nestaseemed inclined to giggle, Bob said gravely, "Older people havemade worse mistakes," and then proceeded to tell the story againsthimself about the tree stump and the pigs.

  There was something so big and nice about Bob's nature that,without meaning to, he always made people ashamed of being pettyand ill-natured when he was present.

  "You made a good shot at the dingo, old man," he said. "It won't belong before you are out shooting with me, at this rate."

  Of course no one could laugh at Eustace after that. Bob saw nothingfunny about what he had done--Bob actually praised him--and whenBob praised it meant something.

  "I say," Nesta asked when the twins were alone together, "weren'tyou most awfully scared?"

  "Well, I guess I was rather," Eustace admitted; "but of course itwas silly to be. Mother thinks it was only one of the plantationhands now, and not a black-fellow at all, you see."

  "But a plantation hand might have knifed somebody," Nesta said,with a shudder. "I hope he won't come again. I know I should screamlike anything."

  "I believe it would be the worst thing y
ou could do," Eustace saidgravely. "He would be sure to try and shut you up if you made arow--any thief would, if he wasn't such a coward as that one. But Iwouldn't think about it if I were you, or you'll be fancyingthings, just as I did."

  In spite of which advice Nesta did suffer a few qualms at night, ifshe happened to wake in the dark; but sleeping with her mother wascomforting, and the panics never lasted long.

  Lessons began again, and the days passed in their usual routine,but with the added joy of something to look forward to in thearrival of the new aunt.

  It was a nightly annoyance to Peter that he was put to bed at thesame time as Sandy Robertson, while the twins stayed up to latedinner. Becky went to bed still earlier, and was generally fastasleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

  "You might shoot pistols in the room after Becky is asleep," was afavourite saying, "and you wouldn't wake her."

  Which statement she almost verified the night Eustace caused suchan excitement; she really did not wake until the second shot wasfired.

  But Peter was not a heavy sleeper. Moreover, he had heard somethingabout the black-fellow stories too. Sandy Robertson gave him a gooddeal of information as they played together, and the little fellowgot into a thoroughly nervous state.

  Mrs. Orban often sat with him till he was asleep, and then left ashaded light burning both in his room and her own.

  It did not startle her very much one night as she sat at dinnerwith the twins to see Peter tear into the room yelling for her atthe top of his voice. She guessed he had awakened from a dream, andwas just frightened at finding himself alone with no one but Sandy.

  He sprang into her arms and lay there trembling, panting only"Mother--mother--mother," over and over again.

  "Well, sonny, what is it?" said his mother soothingly, strokingback his hair from his forehead.

  "O mummie," he gasped, "there's something moving in your room. Iheard it."

  Eustace and Nesta started, and exchanged frightened glances. ButMrs. Orban answered quite calmly,--

  "I dare say, darling. It is probably Mary turning down the beds."

  She rose as she spoke and went towards the door.

  "Oh, don't, mummie! don't go," Peter pleaded eagerly; "perhaps it'sa black-fellow."

  "Nonsense, darling," Mrs. Orban said. "You can stay here withEustace and Nesta if you like, but of course I must go and see whatthe noise was."

  "I'm going with mother," said Eustace sturdily.

  "So am I," said Nesta.

  "We'll all go," said Mrs. Orban cheerily; "and I am quite sure Marywill think us mad when she sees us."

  So down the passage they went, Peter trembling and clinging to hismother. Straight into Mrs. Orban's room they all trooped, and ofcourse, when they got there, there was no one to be seen--not evenMary turning down the beds.

  On they went into the boys' room, and all was peaceful there; forPeter had been too frightened to yell till he reached thedining-room, and Sandy had not been roused.

  "There, you see," said Mrs. Orban; "what did I tell you? There arefar too many of us in the house now for any one to dare to come."

  She went on into the kitchen still holding Peter, and Mary and Katecertainly did look surprised.

  "Master Peter has been having a nightmare," Mrs. Orban explained,"and I want to reassure him. Were you in my room just now, Mary?"

  "No, ma'am," Mary said; "I haven't been there since dinner."

  "Oh, well, then, he must have been dreaming," Mrs. Orban said,still in the same cheery way. "We will just go all through thehouse and show him everything is all right, and then I will sit byhim till he gets to sleep again."

  Eustace took a lantern, and on they all went right through thehouse, very naturally finding no one. Robertson, who was smoking onthe veranda, declared that no one had been up or down the stepssince he had been out, and Mrs. Robertson, who was in her bedroomlulling the baby to sleep, said no one had been that way either.

  After all of which Eustace and Nesta began to breathe freely; but,to tell the truth, at first they had both been a good deal scaredby Peter's announcement. They guessed their mother was just makingall this show of bravery for Peter's and their sakes, for anothervisit from the thief was not at all unlikely.

  But when Robertson laughed at the notion of any one having beenable to pass him unseen where he stood near the veranda steps, whenevery nook and cranny had been looked into and no one wasforthcoming to prove Peter's tale, every one was certain he had hada bad dream.

  "You are a little silly," Nesta said bracingly. "Of course thereare always noises in the house."

  "But this was a big noise," Peter objected; "something banged."

  "Why didn't you say that before?" said Eustace with superiority;then added, out of the vastness of his recent experience, "Nobodyever bangs when they want to rob a house; they try to be as silentas mice."

  "Besides," said Nesta, "there is nothing for any one to steal now,since we keep all our things hidden away."

  This was a rule Mrs. Orban had made--that everything of valuemust be put away under lock and key. She had no fancy to beperpetually paying away rewards for recovered goods. Shebelieved Sinkum Fung to be quite capable of setting peopleto do these little pilferings just in order to obtain therewards. Disagreeable as was the idea, it frightened her farless than the thought of genuine black-fellows lurking aboutthe place; they were really dangerous, cruel, and lawless.

  Mrs. Orban took Peter back with her into the dining-room, and hesat cuddled up on her knee while she finished dinner.

  They were all sitting listening to just one "good-night" storybefore going to bed, when Mary came into the room, gave afrightened glance round, and exclaimed,--

  "Lor', ma'am, haven't you got Miss Becky here? I made sure youhad."

  Every one stared at Mary, and thought she looked rather white andqueer.

  "Did you, Mary?" asked Mrs. Orban rather hurriedly. "Why?"

  "Well, ma'am," said Mary in an unsteady voice, "because she isn'tin her bed."

  Mrs. Orban sprang to her feet.

  "Not in her bed?" she exclaimed. "My good woman, what do youmean?"

  Setting Peter down on the ground, she turned swiftly and left theroom.

  "I just went in to turn down the beds," explained Mary to the twinsas they hurriedly followed, "and went over to Miss Becky's cornerto take a look at her, and she wasn't there. I didn't stop aminute, I was so took aback, but came straight off to see if maybeshe was in the dining-room. You might have knocked me down with afeather when I saw she wasn't."

  Mrs. Orban rushed to Becky's bed. She was standing beside it as ifpetrified when the others entered. The bed was empty. This was nodream. Becky really and truly was not there.