CHAPTER V. ANGLERS' BEND
Jim's "bump on the head" luckily proved not very serious. Ahandkerchief, soaked in the creek by Wally, who rode there and back ata wild gallop, proved an effective bandage applied energetically byHarry, who had studied "first-aid" in an ambulance class. Ten minutesof this treatment, however, proved as much as Jim's patience wouldstand, and at the end of that time he firmly removed the handkerchief,and professed himself cured.
"Nothing to make a fuss about, anyhow," he declared, in answer tosympathetic inquiries. "Head's a bit 'off,' but nothing to grumble at.It'll be all right, if we ride along steadily for a while. I don't thinkI'll do any more racing just now though, thank you!"
"Who won that race?" queried Harry, laughing. The spirits of the littleparty, from being suddenly at zero, had gone up with a bound.
"Blessed if I know," said Jim. "I only know I was leading until Mickended matters for me."
"I led after that, anyhow," said Wally. "Couldn't pull my beauty up, hewas so excited by Mick's somersault."
"I'd have won, in the long run!" Norah said. There were still traces oftears in her eyes, but her face was merry enough. She was riding veryclose to Jim.
"Yes, I think you would," Jim answered; "you and Bobs were coming uplike a hurricane last time I looked round. Never mind, we'll call itanybody's race and have it over again sometime."
They rode along for a few miles, keeping close to the river, which woundin and out, fringed with a thick belt of scrub, amongst which rose tallred-gum trees. Flights of cockatoos screamed over their heads, andmagpies gurgled in the thick shades by the water. Occasionally came theclear whistle of a lyre bird or the peal of a laughing jackass. Jim knewall the bird-notes, as well as the signs of bush game, and pointed themout as they rode. Once a big wallaby showed for an instant, and therewas a general outcry and a plunge in pursuit, but the wallaby was tooquick for them, and found a safe hiding-place in the thickest of thescrub, where the ponies could not follow.
"We cross the creek up here," Jim said, "and make 'cross country a bit.It saves several miles."
"How do you cross? Bridge?" queried Wally.
"Bridge!--don't grow such things in this part of the world," laughedJim. "No, there's a place where it's easy enough to ford, a little wayup. There are plenty of places fordable, if you only know them, on thiscreek; but a number of them are dangerous, because of deep holes andboggy places. Father lost a good horse in one of those bogs, and to lookat the place you'd only have thought it a nice level bit of grassyground."
"My word!" Wally whistled. "What a bit of hard luck!"
"Yes, it was, rather," Jim said. "It made us careful about crossing, Ican tell you. Even the men look out since Harry Wilson got boggedanother time, trying to get over after a bullock. Of course he wouldn'twait to go round, and he had an awful job to get his horse out of themud--it's something like a quicksand. After that father had two or threegood crossings made very plain and clear, and whenever a new man is puton they're explained to him. See, there's one now."
They came suddenly on a gap in the scrub, leading directly to the creek,which was, indeed, more of a river than a creek, and in winter ran in abroad, rapid stream. Even in summer it ran always, though the fullcurrent dwindled to a trickling, sluggish streamlet, with here andthere a deep, quiet pool, where the fish lay hidden through the long hotdays.
All the brushwood and trees had been cleared away, leaving a broadpathway to the creek. At the edge of the gap a big board, nailed to atall tree, bore the word FORD in large letters. Farther on, between thetrees, a glimpse of shining water caught the eye.
"That's the way father's had all the fords marked," Norah said. "He saysit's no good running risks for the sake of a little trouble."
"Dad's always preaching that," Jim observed. "He says people are toofond of putting up with makeshifts, that cost ever so much more time andtrouble than it does to do a thing thoroughly at the start. So he alwaysmakes us do a thing just as well as we know how, and there's no end ofrows if he finds any one 'half doing' a job. 'Begin well and finishbetter,' he says. My word, it gives you a lesson to see how he fixes athing himself."
"Dear old Dad," said Norah softly, half to herself.
"I think your father's just splendid," Harry said enthusiastically. "Hedoes give you a good time, too."
"Yes, I know he does," Jim said. "I reckon he's the best man that everlived! All the same, he doesn't mean to give me a good time always. WhenI leave school I've got to work and make my own living, with just astart from him. He says he's not going to bring any boy up to be aloafer." Jim's eyes grew soft. "I mean to show him I can work, too," hesaid.
They were at the water's edge, and the ponies gratefully put their headsdown for a drink of the cool stream that clattered and danced over itsstony bed. After they had finished, Jim led the way through the water,which was only deep enough to wash the ponies' knees. When they hadclimbed the opposite bank, a wide, grassy plain stretched before them.
"We cut across here," Norah explained, "and pick up the creek overthere--that saves a good deal."
"Does Billy know this cut?" Harry queried.
"What doesn't Billy know?" Norah laughed. "Come along."
They cantered slowly over the grass, remembering that Jim was scarcelyfit yet for violent exercise, though he stoutly averred that hisaccident had left no traces whatever. The sun was getting high and itwas hot, away from the cool shade near the creek. Twice a hare boundedoff in the grass, and once Harry jumped off hurriedly and killed a bigbrown snake that was lazily sunning itself upon a broad log.
"I do hate those beasts!" he said, remounting. Norah had held his ponyfor him.
"So do I," she nodded; "only one gets used to them. Father found one onhis pillow the other night."
"By George!" Harry said. "Did he kill it?"
"Yes, rather. They are pretty thick here, especially a bit earlier thanthis. One got into the kitchen through the window, by the big vine thatgrows outside, and when Mrs. Brown pulled down the blind it came,too--it was on the roller. That was last Christmas, and Mrs. Brown saysshe's shaking still!"
"Snakes are rummy things," Harry observed. "Ever hear that you can charmthem with music?"
"I've heard it," Norah said quaintly. Her tone implied that it was apiece of evidence she did not accept on hearsay.
"Well, I believe it's true. Last summer a whole lot of us were out onthe verandah, and there was plenty of laughing and talking going on--asnake wouldn't crawl into a rowdy group like that for the fun of it,now, would he? It was Christmas day, and my little brother Phil--he'ssix--had found a piccolo in his stocking, and he was sitting on the endof the verandah playing away at this thing. We thought it was a bit of arow, but Phil was quite happy. Presently my sister Vera looked at him,and screamed out, 'Why, there's a snake!'
"So there was, and it was just beside Phil. It had crawled up betweenthe verandah boards, and was lying quietly near the little chap, lookingat him stealthily--he was blowing away, quite unconcerned. We didn'tknow what to do for a moment, for the beastly thing was so near Philthat we didn't like to hit it for fear we missed and it bit him.However, Phil solved the difficulty by getting up and walking off, stillplaying the piccolo. The snake never stirred when he did--and you may besure it didn't get much chance to stir after. Three sticks came down onit at the same time."
"I say!" Norah breathed quickly. "What an escape for poor Phil!"
"Wasn't it? He didn't seem to care a bit when we showed him the snakeand told him it had been so near him--he hadn't known a thing about it.'Can't be bovvered wiv snakes,' was all he said."
"When I was a little kiddie," Norah said, "they found me playing with asnake one day."
"Playing with it?" Harry echoed.
"Yes; I was only about two, and I don't remember anything about it. Dadcame on to the back verandah, and saw me sitting by a patch of dust,stroking something. He couldn't make out what it was at first, and thenhe came a bit nearer, and saw that it was a big snake
. It was lying inthe dust sunning itself, and I was stroking it most kindly."
"By George!" said Harry.
"Funny what things kiddies will do!" said Norah, with all thesuperiority of twelve long years. "It frightened Dad tremendously. Hedidn't know what to do, 'cause he didn't dare come near or call out. Is'pose the snake saw him, 'cause it began to move. It crawled right overmy bare legs."
"And never bit you?"
"No; I kept on stroking its back as it went over my knees, without theleast idea that it was anything dangerous. Dad said it seemed years andyears before it went right over and crawled away from me into the grass.He had me out of the way in about half a second, and got a stick, and Icried like anything when he killed it, and said he was naughty!"
"If you chaps have finished swopping snake yarns," said Jim, turning inhis saddle, "there's Anglers' Bend."
They had been riding steadily across the plain, until they had againcome near the scrub-line which marked the course of the creek. Followingthe direction pointed by Jim's finger, they saw a deep curve in thegreen, where the creek suddenly left the fairly straight course it hadbeen pursuing and made two great bends something like a capital U, thepoints of which lay in their direction. They rode down between themuntil they were almost at the water's edge.
Here the creek was very deep, and in sweeping round had cut out a widebed, nearly three times its usual breadth. Tall trees grew almost to theverge of the banks on both sides, so that the water was almost always inshadow, while so high were the banks that few breezes were able toripple its surface. It lay placid all the year, scarcely troubled evenin winter, when the other parts of the creek rushed and tumbled inflood. There was room in the high banks of Anglers' Bend for all theextra water, and its presence was only marked by the strength of thecurrent that ran in the very centre of the stream.
Just now the water was not high, and seemed very far below the children,who sat looking at it from their ponies on the bank. As they watched insilence a fish leaped in the middle of the Bend. The sudden movementseemed amazing in the stillness. It flashed for an instant in a patch ofsunlight, and then fell back, sending circling ripples spreading to eachbank.
"Good omen, I hope," Harry said, "though they often don't bite when theyjump, you know."
"It's not often they don't bite here," Jim said.
"Well, it looks a good enough place for anything--if we can't catch fishhere, we won't be up to much as anglers," Harry said.
"You've been here before, haven't you, Norah?" Wally asked.
"Oh, yes; ever so many times."
"Father and Norah have great fishing excursions on their own," said Jim."They take a tent and camp out for two or three days with Billy asgeneral flunkey. I don't know how many whales they haven't caught atthis place. They know the Bend as well as any one."
"Well, I guess we'd better take off the saddles and get to work," saidNorah, slipping off Bobs and patting his neck before undoing the girth.The boys followed her example and soon the saddles were safely stowed inthe shade. Then Jim turned with a laugh.
"Well, we are duffers," he said. "Can't do a thing till Billy turns up.He's got all the hooks and lines, all the bait, all the hobbles, all theeverything!"
"Whew-w!" whistled the boys.
"Well, it doesn't matter," Norah said cheerfully. "There's lots to do.We can hang up the ponies while we hunt for rods. You boys have got yourstrong knives, haven't you?"
They had, and immediately scattered to work. The ponies having been tiedsecurely under a grove of saplings, the search for rods began, and soonfour long straight sticks were obtained with the necessary amount of"springiness." Then they hunted for a suitable camping-ground, wherelunch might be eaten without too much disturbance from flies andmosquitoes, and gathered a good supply of dry sticks for a fire.
"Billy ought to bless us, anyhow," Jim grinned.
"Yes, oughtn't he? Come along and see if he's coming." They ran out uponthe plain, and cheerful exclamations immediately proclaimed the factthat Billy and the old packhorse had at length made their appearance inwhat Wally called the "offing."
Billy soon clattered up to the little party, the hobbles and quart potjingling cheerfully on old Polly's back. He grinned amiably at the fourmerry faces awaiting him in the shade of a wattle tree.
"This feller pretty slow," he said, indicating Polly with a jerk of histhumb. "You all waitin' for tackle?"
"Rather," said Jim. "Never mind, we've got everything ready. Look sharpand shy down the hooks, Billy--they're in that tin, and the lines aretied on to it, in a parcel. That's right," as the black boy tossed thetackle down and he caught it deftly. "Now, you chaps, get to work, andget your lines ready."
"Right oh!" said the chorus, as it fell to work. Billy made a swiftincursion into the interior of the pack, and fished up a tin of wormsand some raw meat, Wally being the only one to patronize the latter. Theother three baited their hooks with worms, and, all being in readiness,made their way down the steep bank at a place where a little cleft gaveeasier access to a tiny shelving beach below. Here a great tree-trunkhad long ago been left by an unusually high flood, and formed a splendidplace to fish from, as it jutted out for some distance over the stream.Norah scrambled out like a cat to its farthest extremity, and Harryfollowed her for part of the way. Wally and Jim settled themselves atintervals along the trunk. Sinkers, floats and baits were examined, andthe business of the day began.
Everybody knows how it feels to fish. You throw in your hook with suchblissful certainty that no fish can possibly resist the temptation youare dangling before its eyes. There is suppressed excitement all overyou. You are all on the alert, feeling for imaginary nibbles, for bitesthat are not there. Sometimes, of course, the dreams come true, and thebites are realities; but these occasions are sadly outnumbered by thetimes when you keep on feeling and bobbing your line vainly, whileexcitement lulls to expectation, and expectation merges into hope, andhope becomes wishing, and wishing often dies down to disappointment.
Such was the gradual fate of the fishing party at Anglers' Bend. Atfirst the four floats were watched with an intensity of regard thatshould surely have had some effect in luring fishes to the surface; butas the minutes dragged by and not a fish seemed inclined even to nibble,the solemn silence which had brooded on the quartet was broken by sundryfidgetings and wrigglings and suppressed remarks on the variableness offish and the slowness of fishing. Men enjoy the sport, because they canlight their pipes and smoke in expectant ease; but the consolation oftobacco was debarred from boys who were, as Jim put it, "too young tosmoke and too old to make idiots of themselves by trying it," and sothey found it undeniably dull.
Billy came down to join the party presently, after he had seen to hishorses and unpacked old Polly's load. His appearance gave Jim abrilliant idea, and he promptly despatched the black boy for cake, whichproved a welcome stimulant to flagging enthusiasm.
"Don't know if fish care about cake crumbs," said Harry, finishing ahuge slice with some regret.
"Didn't get a chance of sampling any of mine," Wally laughed; "I wantedit all myself. Hallo!"
"What is it--a bite?"
"Rather--such a whopper! I've got it, too," Wally gasped, tugging at hisline.
"You've got it, right enough," Jim said. "Why, your rod's bending rightover. Want a hand?"
"No, thanks--manage it myself," said the fisherman, tugging manfully."Here she comes!"
The line came in faster now, and the strain on the rod was plain.Excitement ran high.
"It's a great big perch, I do believe," Norah exclaimed. "Just fancy, ifit beats Dad's big boomer--the biggest ever caught here."
"It'll beat some records," Wally gasped, hauling in frantically. "Hereshe comes!"
"She" came, with a final jerk. Jim broke into a suppressed shout oflaughter. For Wally's catch was nothing less than an ancient, mud-ladenboot!
A Little Bush Maid Page 5
