Australian Lassie

by Sophie May

  CHAPTER II

  THE PEARL SEEKERS

  They were round the corner and away from school--Cyril, Elizabeth andNancy. Behind them were all the trials and vexations of the day, amongwhich may be counted Mrs. Sharman, Mr. Sharman--and John Brown.

  Cyril spoke with awe of John Brown's big hands and feet, and looked overhis shoulder as he spoke. For that small hope of the Bruces had in thecloak-room inadvertently trodden upon Brown's hat, and had been startledby the way in which Brown had swung him round by his collar.

  "I pinched him," said Betty proudly. "He shouldn't have gone above me.I'll pinch him every time."

  Her sun-bonnet was tucked away under her arm, her boots and stockingswere in the family lunch-basket that she carried, boy-like, swung overher shoulder, and she covered the ground most of the time with a hop,skip, and a jump, aided by a long stout stick.

  "I suppose," she said, "we'll have to try the dangerous little coralislands this time. I know that's where the black pearl is hidden."

  "Oh dear," sighed Nancy, "I don't like curral islands a bit. Let's gohome to-day."

  "Silly!" said Cyril loftily. "We've got to find the black pearlsomehow."

  "It'll be worth hundreds and thousands of pounds," said Elizabeth. "Just_think_ of taking that to mother, just _think_ of all we could do. Itwouldn't matter _then_ grandfather not speaking. _We_ could drive pasthim in our carriage then! Come on my lass." This last was to Nancy.

  "I want to go in the water, too, Betty," said the small lassie,following at a trot. "Don't want to be your old wife. I've been yourwife for a lot of days now."

  "I don't know who you mean when you say Betty," declared Elizabeth, andleapt forward so far that the other two had to sharpen their pacesuddenly.

  "Peter Lucky," said Nancy imploringly. "Oh, Peter Lucky, let Cywil beyour wife a bit--do."

  "Cywil's"--it may be stated that Betty was still very backward sometimesin the matter of r's--"Cywil's got to be my chum--don't be such a stupidNancy--er--Polly. He's got to try to murder me in the middle of thenight to get the pearl. Look here, we've only just put you in to amuseyou a bit, we can _just_ as well do without you."

  Nancy's face fell. Such statements were lavishly used by these twoelders of hers towards herself. But the indignity she feared most was tobe told to go home and play with the baby, and she looked at her sisterwith an eager smile now to stop the words if possible.

  "Oh, don't do wivout me, Betty dear," she said. "I'll love to be yourwife. I was only thinking it would be nice to have your feet in thewater."

  "You're six," said Betty. "You ought to be able to be my wife wellnow--cook the dinner, and wash up, and all that. If you do well atthis, we'll see how you'll do as a man some day."

  For a second they stopped before their grandfather's gates and peered upthe long drive. It was an old habit of theirs, varied for instance bychallenges of who dared to walk the furthest distance up the drive.Betty had once advanced just beyond that mysterious bend, but she hadscudded back again soon, declaring her grandfather had a gun and wascoming after them, with it aimed at her head. Oh, how they had run homethat day!

  Another time she had climbed upon the topmost rail of the gate and,scrambling down quickly, had set off madly for home, followedbreathlessly by the others who were afraid even to look over theirshoulders. "He's set the emus loose," Betty told them as they ran, "andemus are like bloodhounds for scenting you out. And besides, they canfly."

  But that was fully a year ago now, and much of the terror had departedfrom their grandfather's gates for the two elder ones. It was only Nancywho had cold thrills down her back and shudderings at passing the dreadgates.

  To-day Betty did no more than peep through the railing, declare therewas nobody about, and swing off again with her long pole. "Nobody thereto-day," she said, and Nancy breathed easier and ran after her.

  They were on the well-trodden bush-track now, the track that led homebetween great gums and slim saplings. The iron roof of the cottage cameinto view and the row of tall pines that stood like grim sentinelsbetween the two-rail fence and the sweet-scented garden. A small wicketgate stood invitingly ajar, and a black dog, lying meditatively outsideit, pricked up his ears and raised his head as the trio came into sight.

  They took a cross-track, however, and disappeared into the bush again,and the dog shook off his thoughtful mood and ran gleefully after them.

  For he had not grown up from puppyhood to doghood with these childrenwithout knowing what tracks led to school and home, and what to thewonderful realm of play and fancy. Moreover, his anticipations werealways aroused when Elizabeth changed her habit, and he had seen in thetwinkling of his eye that she was bare-legged and bare-headed andprovided with a pole. So he barked joyously and scampered away upon thatcross-track too.

  Down in the gully where the growth was thicker, and where the wattlesand willows made many a fairy grove, a small creek ran. The widest endof it ran into their grandfather's grounds, and had at one time in itscareer broken down the two-rail dividing fence, which now lay submergedin its waters and formed the "dangerous coral islands" alluded to byBetty.

  It pleased Elizabeth's fancy to state that her grandfather was unawareof this creek, but that some one would tell him soon, and then he wouldsend men and have it well examined by divers.

  To-day, however, a dire disappointment awaited them. Seated on a partlysubmerged post, and holding a fishing-line in his hands, was John Brown.The three stared at him for a minute in speechless disgust, but hereturned their stare with a nod and a small smile and looked at hisline.

  "Better come home," whispered Cyril, with a lively recollection in hismind of the big hand that had played with his collar so short a timepast.

  But Betty was trying to swallow her indignation and to keep her voicequiet.

  "This is our place," she said. "This was our place before yours."

  "Well," said Brown, "it's mine now."

  "It isn't yours," said Betty shrilly; "it belongs to our grandfather--sothere!"

  Again Brown smiled.

  "Well, that's a stuffer," he said, "it belongs to _my_ grandfather."

  Betty's eyes widened in horror at the new boy's depravity. "Oh, youstory!" she said in a shocked voice, then turning to the uneasy Cyril,"Hit him, Cyril!" she said. "Hit him one in the eye for taking our placeand telling such a wicked story."

  But Cyril was already widening the distance between himself and JohnBrown, and a feeling of anger was beginning to stir in his small breastagainst Betty for trying to mix him up in this quarrel.

  "Come on home," he said, "what's the good of having a row with a fellowlike that?"

  "But it's our water," said Betty, her face red with anger towards thefisher. She stooped down and picked up a stone.

  Brown turned and looked at the little group; Cyril a good distance inthe rear; and angry-faced Betty, with Nancy cowering in terror behindher.

  "Look here," he said, "I'm not going to have any of you people poachingon my grandfather's property. You can come as far as the fence _if_ youlike, but I advise you to come no further."

  Betty's stone flew through the air--many yards distant from the boy onthe post.

  "Good, again," he said. "There are plenty more stones and I'm here yet."

  Again Betty repeated the process, and with even worse results. She never_could_ aim straight in all her life!

  "Good shot!" said Brown, laughing again.

  "Oh, Cywil, do _smash_ him," begged Betty in desperation.

  "He daren't, he hasn't the pluck," mocked Brown.

  "No Bruce is afraid," said Betty, using her favourite taunt. "Come onCyril!"

  But when she looked over her shoulder Cyril was nowhere in sight, andNancy was scudding away, like a terrified rabbit, through the scrubaround her.

  Through the air rang a clear shrill voice--it belonged to golden hairedDorothea--"Betty, come home."

  "You're called," said Brown, winding up a yard or so of his line.

  Betty stooped,
grasped another stone, took aim at a distant wattle insheer desperation, and caught Brown on the hand.

  The pain of it drew a sharp exclamation from him, and brought him fromhis post in a towering rage.

  And Betty took to her bare heels and ran--ran as though her grandfatherand all his emus were after her.

  Near the wicket-gate she ran against Cyril, who was throwing stones inthe air for the dog to snap at as they fell.

  "Bwoun!" she gasped. "He's coming!"

  Cyril looked down the track and beheld no one.

  "It's all right," he said; "go inside and shut the gate. I'll give himwhat for. I'd just like to see him touch you. I'd knock him into nextyear as soon as look at him."

  But no Brown appeared.

  Cyril put his hands in his pockets and strutted towards the trackthrough the bush--to the intense admiration of Elizabeth.

  "No Bruce is afraid of any one," he said. "You and Nancy go in."

  A girl in a short long print dress ran down the verandah steps. A maneof golden hair hung down her back and some of it lay over her shoulders,and when she stood still she tossed it away.

  "You're to come home at once, Betty," she said, "and mind baby. And oh,you naughty girl, you've got your boots and stockings off again. What_will_ mother say?"