CHAPTER VIII. ON A LOG
Lunch over, everyone seemed disinclined for action. The boys lay abouton the grass, sleepily happy. Norah climbed into a tree, where thegnarled boughs made a natural arm-chair, and the Hermit propped hisback against a rock and smoked a short black pipe with an air ofperfect enjoyment. It was just hot enough to make one drowsy. Beesdroned lazily, and from some shady gully the shrill note of a cricketcame faintly to the ear. Only Billy had stolen down to the creek, totempt the fish once more. They heard the dull "plunk" of his sinker ashe flung it into a deep, still pool.
"Would you like to hear how I lost my boot?" queried the Hermitsuddenly.
"Oh, please," said Norah.
The boys rolled over--that is to say Jim and Wally rolled over. Harrywas fast asleep.
"Don't wake him," said the Hermit. But Wally's hat, skilfully thrown,had already caught the slumberer on the side of the head.
Harry woke up with surprising promptness, and returned the offendinghead-gear with force and directness. Wally caught it deftly and rammedit over his eyes. He smiled underneath it at the Hermit like a happycherub.
"Now we're ready, sir," he said. "Hold your row, Harry, the--thisgentleman's going to spin us a yarn. Keep awake if you can spare thetime!"
"I'll spare the time to kick you!" growled the indignant Harry.
"I don't know that you'll think it's much of a yarn," the Hermit saidhurriedly, entering the breach to endeavour to allay furtherdiscussion--somewhat to Jim's disappointment. "It's only the story of apretty narrow escape.
"I had gone out fishing one afternoon about a month ago. It was a grandday for fishing--dull and cloudy. The sun was about somewhere, but youcouldn't see anything of him, although you could feel his warmth. I'dbeen off colour for a few days, and had not been out foraging at all,and as a result, except for damper, my larder was quite empty.
"I went about a mile upstream. There's a splendid place for fishingthere. The creek widens, and there's a still, deep pool, something likethe pool at the place you call Anglers' Bend, only I think mine isdeeper and stiller, and fishier! At all events, I have never failed toget fish there.
"I fished from the bank for a while, with not very good luck. At allevents, it occurred to me that I could better it if I went out upon abig log that lay right across the creek--a tremendous tree it must havebeen, judging by the size of the trunk. You could almost ride across it,it's so wide--if you had a circus pony, that is," added the Hermit witha twinkle.
"So I gathered up my tackle, hung the fish I'd caught across a bough inthe shade, and went out on the log, and here I had good luck at once.The fish bit just as soon as I put the bait into the water, and though agood many of them were small there were some very decent-sized onesamongst them. I threw the little chaps back, on the principle that--
Baby fish you throw away Will make good sport another day,
and at last began to think I had caught nearly enough, even though Iintended to salt some. However, just as I thought it was time to strikefor camp, I had a tremendous bite. It nearly jerked the rod out of myhands!
"'Hallo!' I said to myself, 'here's a whale!' I played him for a bit,for he was the strongest fish I ever had on a line in this country, andat last he began to tire, and I reeled the line in. It seemed quite along time before I caught a glimpse of his lordship--a tremendous perch.I tell you I felt quite proud as his head came up out of the water.
"He was nearly up to the log, when he made a sudden, last leap in theair, and the quickness of it and his weight half threw me off mybalance. I made a hurried step on the log, and my right foot slippedinto a huge, gaping crack. It was only after I had made two or threeineffectual struggles to release it that I found I was stuck.
"Well I didn't realize the seriousness of the position for a fewminutes," the Hermit went on. "I could understand that I was wedged, butI certainly never dreamed that I could not, by dint of manoeuvring,wriggle my foot out of the crack. So I turned my attention to my bigfish, and--standing in a most uncomfortable position--managed to landhim; and a beauty he was, handsome as paint, with queer markings on hissides. I put him down carefully, and then tried to free myself.
"And I tried--and tried--and tried--until I was tired out, and stiff andhopeless. By that time it was nearly dark. After I had endeavouredunsuccessfully to get the boot clear, I unlaced it, and tried to get myfoot out of it--but I was in a trifle too far for that, and try as Iwould I could not get it free. The crack was rather on the side of thelog. I could not get a straight pull. Hurt? Yes, of course it hurt--notmore from the pinching of the log, which you may try any time byscrewing your foot up in a vice, than from my own wild efforts to getclear. My foot and ankle were stiff and sore from my exertions longbefore I knocked off in despair. I might have tried to cut the woodaway, had I not left my knife on the bank, where I was fishing first. Idon't know that it would have done much good, anyhow.
"Well, I looked at the situation--in fact, I had been looking at it allthe time. It wasn't a very cheering prospect, either. The more Ipondered over it, the less chance I saw of getting free. I had done allI could towards that end; now it only remained to wait for something to'turn up.' And I was quite aware that nothing was in the least likely toturn up, and also that in all probability I would wear out some timebefore the log did.
"Night came on, and I was as hungry as a hunter--being a hunter, I knewjust how hungry that is. I hadn't anything to eat except raw fish, and Iwasn't quite equal to that yet. I had only one pipe of tobacco too, andyou may be sure I made the most of that, I smoked it very, very slowly,and I wouldn't like to say how long it lasted.
"From time to time I made fresh attempts to release my foot--allunavailing, and all the more maddening because I could feel that my footwasn't much caught--only just enough to hold it. But enough is as goodas a feast! I felt that if I could get a straight pull at it I might getit out, and several times I nearly went head first into the water,overbalancing myself in the effort to get that straight pull. Thatwasn't a pleasant sensation--not so bad, indeed, if one had got as faras the water. But I pictured myself hanging from the log with adislocated ankle, and the prospect was not inviting.
"So the night crept on. I grew deadly sleepy, but of course I did notcare to let myself go to sleep; but worse than that was the stiffness,and the cramp that tortured the imprisoned leg. You know how you want tojump when you've got cramp? Well, I wanted to jump at intervals of abouta minute all through that night, and instead, I was more securelyhobbled than any old horse I ever saw. The mosquitoes worried me too.Altogether it was not the sort of entertainment you would select fromchoice!
"And then, just as day began to dawn, the sleepiness got the better ofme. I fought it unavailingly; but at last I knew I could keep awake nolonger, and I shut my eyes.
"I don't know how long I slept--it couldn't have been for any time, forit was not broad daylight when I opened my eyes again. Besides, thecircumstances weren't the kind to induce calm and peaceful slumber.
"I woke up with a start, and in my dreams I seemed to hear myself cryingout with pain--for a spasm of cramp had seized me, and it was like ared-hot iron thrust up my leg. I was only half awake--not realizing myposition a bit. I made a sudden spring, and the next moment off I went,headlong!
"I don't suppose," said the Hermit reflectively, poking a stem of grassdown his pipe, "that I'll ever lose the memory of the sudden, abjectterror of that moment. They say 'as easy as falling off a log,' and itcertainly doesn't take an able-bodied man long to fall off one, as arule; but it seemed to me that I was hours and years waiting for thejerk to come on my imprisoned foot. I'm sure I lived through half alifetime before it really came.
"Then it came--and I hardly felt it! There was just a suddenpull--scarcely enough to hurt very much, and the old boot yielded. Solefrom upper, it came clean away, and the pressure on my foot alone wasn'tenough to hold me. It was so unexpected that I didn't realize I was freeuntil I struck the water, and went down right into the mud at the b
ottomof the creek.
"That woke me up, I can assure you. I came up choking and spluttering,and blinded with the mud--I wouldn't like to tell you for a moment thatit was pleasant, but I can truthfully say I never was more relieved inmy life. I struck out for the bank, and got out of the water, and thensat down on the grass and wondered why on earth I hadn't made up my mindto jump off that log before.
"I hadn't any boot left--the remainder had been kicked off as I swamashore. I made my way along the log that had held me so fast all night,and there, wedged as tight as ever in the crack, was my old sole! It'sthere still--unless the mosquitoes have eaten it. I limped home with myfish, cleaned them, had a meal and went to bed--and I didn't get upuntil next day, either!
"And so, Mr. Wally, I venture to think that it was my boot that youlanded this morning," the Hermit said gravely. "I don't grudge it toyou; I can't say I ever wish to see it again. You"--magnanimously--"mayhave it for your very own!"
"But I chucked it back again!" blurted out Wally, amidst a roar oflaughter from Jim and Harry at his dismayed face.
"I forgive you!" said the Hermit, joining in the laugh. "I admit it wasa relic which didn't advertise its own fame."
"I guess you'd never want to see it again," Jim said. "That was a prettynarrow escape--if your foot had been in just a bit farther you mighthave been hanging from that old log now!"
"That was my own idea all that night," observed the Hermit; "and thenWally wouldn't have caught any more than the rest of you this morning!And that reminds me, I promised to show you a good fishing-place. Don'tyou think, if you've had enough of my prosy yarning, that we'd bettermake a start?"
The party gathered itself up with alacrity from the grass. Lines werehurriedly examined, and the bait tin, when investigated, proved tocontain an ample supply of succulent grubs and other dainties calculatedto tempt the most fastidious of fish.
"All ready?" said the Hermit.
"Hold on a minute," Jim said. "I'll let Billy know where we're going."
Billy was found fishing stolidly from a log. Three blackfish testifiedto his skill with the rod, at which Wally whistled disgustedly and Norahlaughed.
"No good to be jealous of Billy's luck," she said. "He can always getfish, when nobody else can find even a nibble. Mrs. Brown says he's gotthe light hand like hers for pastry."
The Hermit laughed.
"I like Mrs. Brown's simile," he said. "If that was her pastry in thoseturnovers at lunch, Miss Norah, I certainly agree that she has 'thelight hand.'"
"Mrs. Brown's like the cook in _The Ingoldsby Legends_, Dad says," Norahremarked.
"What," said the Hermit--
"For soups and stews, and French regouts, Nell Cook is famous still--?"finished Norah delightedly. "However did you know, Mr. Hermit?"
The Hermit laughed, but a shade crossed his brow. "I used to read the_Legends_ with a dear old friend many years before you were born, MissNorah," he said gravely. "I often wonder whether he still reads them."
"Ready?" Jim interrupted, springing up the bank. "Billy understandsabout feeding the ponies. Don't forget, mind, Billy."
"Plenty!" quoth Billy, and the party went on its way. The Hermit ledthem rapidly over logs and fallen trees, up and down gullies, andthrough tangles of thickly growing scrub. Once or twice it occurred toJim that they were trusting very confidingly to this man, of whom theyknew absolutely nothing; and a faint shade of uneasiness crossed hismind. He felt responsible, as the eldest of the youngsters, knowing thathis father had placed him in charge, and that he was expected toexercise a certain amount of caution. Still it was hard to fancyanything wrong, looking at the Hermit's serene face, and the trustingway in which Norah's brown little hand was placed in his strong grasp.The other boys were quite unconscious of any uncomfortable ideas, andJim finally dismissed his fears as uncalled for.
"I thought," said the Hermit, suddenly turning, "of taking you to see mycamp as we went, but on second thoughts I decided that it would bebetter to get straight to work, as you young people want some fish, Isuppose, to take home. Perhaps we can look in at my camp as we comeback. It's not far from here."
"Which way do you generally go to the river?" Norah asked.
"Why, anyway," the Hermit answered. "Generally in this direction. Why doyou ask, Miss Norah?"
"I was wondering," Norah said. "We haven't crossed or met a singletrack."
The Hermit laughed.
"No," he said, "I take very good care not to leave tracks if I can avoidit. You see, I'm a solitary fellow, Miss Norah, and prefer, as a rule,to keep to myself. Apart from that, I often leave camp for the greaterpart of the day when I'm fishing or hunting, and I've no wish to pointout the way to my domain to any wanderers. Not that I've much to lose,still there are some things. Picture my harrowed feelings were I toreturn some evening and find my beloved frying-pan gone!"
Norah laughed.
"It would be awful," she said.
"So I planned my camp very cunningly," continued the Hermit, "and I cantell you it took some planning to contrive it so that it shouldn't betoo easily visible."
"Well, it isn't from the side I came on it," Norah put in; "I neverdreamed of anything being there until I was right on the camp. It didsurprise me!"
"And me," said the Hermit drily. "Well that is how I tried to arrangecamp, and you could be within a dozen yards of it on any side withoutimagining that any was near."
"But surely you must have made some sort of a track leading away fromit," said Jim, "unless you fly out!"
The Hermit laughed.
"I'll show you later how I manage that," he said.
The bush grew denser as the little party, led by the Hermit, pushedalong, and Jim was somewhat surprised at the easy certainty with whichtheir guide led the way, since there was no sign of a track. Being asilent youth, he held his tongue on the matter; but Wally was not soreserved.
"However d'you find your way along here?" he asked. "I don't even knowwhether we're near the creek or not."
"If we kept still a moment you'd know," the Hermit said. "Listen!" Heheld up his hand and they all stood still. There came faintly to theirears a musical splash of water.
"There's a little waterfall just in there," the Hermit said, "nothingmuch, unless the creek is very low, and then there is a greater drop forthe water. So you see we haven't got far from the creek. How do I knowthe way? Why, I feel it mostly, and if I couldn't feel it, there areplenty of landmarks. Every big tree is as good as a signpost once youknow the way a bit, and I've been along here pretty often, so there'snothing in it, you see, Wally."
"Do you like the bush, Mr. Hermit?" Norah asked.
The Hermit hesitated.
"Sometimes I hate it, I think, Miss Norah," he said, "when theloneliness of it comes over me, and all the queer sounds of it bother meand keep me awake. Then I realise that I'm really a good way fromanywhere, and I get what are familiarly called the blues. However,that's not at all times, and indeed mostly I love it very much, itsgreat quietness and its beauty; and then it's so companionable, thoughperhaps you're a bit young to understand that. Anyhow, I have my mates,not only old Turpentine, my snake, but others--wallabies that have cometo recognise me as harmless, for I never hunt anywhere near home, thelaughing jackasses, two of them, that come and guffaw to me everymorning, the pheasants that I watch capering and strutting on the logshidden in the scrub. Even the plants become friends; there are creepersnear my camp that I've watched from babyhood, and more than one big treewith which I've at least a nodding acquaintance!"
He broke off suddenly.
"Look, there's a friend of mine!" he said gently. They were crossing alittle gully, and a few yards on their right a big wallaby sat staringat them, gravely inquisitive. It certainly would not have been humannature if Jim had not longed for a gun; but the wallaby was evidentlyquite ignorant of such a thing, and took them all in with his coolstare. At length Wally sneezed violently, whereat the wallaby started,regarded the disturber of his peace with an alarmed air, and
finallybounded off into the scrub.
"There you go!" said the Hermit good-humouredly, "scaring my poorbeastie out of his wits."
"Couldn't help it," mumbled Wally.
"No, a sneeze will out, like truth, won't it?" the Hermit laughed."That's how Miss Norah announced herself to me to-day. I might neverhave known she was there if she hadn't obligingly sneezed! I hope.you're not getting colds, children!" the Hermit added, with mockconcern.
"Not much!" said Wally and Norah in a breath.
"Just after I came here," said the Hermit, "I was pretty short oftucker, and it wasn't a good time for fishing, so I was dependent on mygun for most of my provisions. So one day, feeling much annoyed after abreakfast of damper and jam, I took the gun and went off to stock up thelarder.
"I went a good way without any luck. There didn't seem anything to shootin all the bush, though you may be sure I kept my eyes about me. I wasbeginning to grow disheartened. At length I made my way down to thecreek. Just as I got near it, I heard a whirr-r-r over my head, andlooking up, I saw a flock of wild duck. They seemed to pause a moment,and then dropped downwards. I couldn't see where they alighted, but ofcourse I knew it must be in the creek.
"Well, I didn't pause," said the Hermit. "I just made my way down to thecreek as quickly as ever I could, remaining noiseless at the same time.Ducks are easily scared, and I knew my hopes of dinner were poor ifthese chaps saw me too soon.
"So I sneaked down. Pretty soon I got a glimpse of the creek, which wasvery wide at that point, and fringed with weeds. The ducks were calmlyswimming on its broad surface, a splendid lot of them, and I can assureyou a very tempting sight to a hungry man.
"However, I didn't waste time in admiration. I couldn't very well risk ashot from where I was, it was a bit too far, and the old gun I hadwasn't very brilliant. So I crept along, crawled down a bank, and foundmyself on a flat that ran to the water's edge, where reeds, growingthickly, screened me from the ducks' sight.
"That was simple enough. I crawled across this flat, taking no chances,careless of mud, and wet, and sword grass, which isn't the nicest thingto crawl among at any time, as you can imagine; it's absolutelymerciless to face and hands."
"And jolly awkward to stalk ducks in," Jim commented, "the rustle wouldgive you away in no time."
The Hermit nodded.
"Yes," he said, "that's its worst drawback, or was, on this occasion. Itcertainly did rustle; however, I crept very slowly, and the ducks werekind enough to think I was the wind stirring in the reeds. At any rate,they went on swimming, and feeding quite peacefully. I got a good lookat them through the fringe of reeds, and then, like a duffer, although Ihad a good enough position, I must try and get a better one.
"So I crawled a little farther down the bank, trying to reach a knollwhich would give me a fine sight of the game, and at the same time forma convenient rest for my gun. I had almost reached it when the sad thinghappened. A tall, spear-like reed, bending over, gently and intrusivelytickled my nose, and without the slightest warning, and very greatly tomy own amazement, I sneezed violently.
"If I was amazed, what were the ducks! The sneeze was so unmistakablyhuman, so unspeakably violent. There was one wild whirr of wings, and myducks scrambled off the placid surface of the water like thingspossessed. I threw up my gun and fired wildly; there was no time fordeliberate taking of aim, with the birds already half over the ti-treeat the other side."
"Did you get any?" Jim asked.
"One duck," said the Hermit sadly. "And even for him I had to swim; heobligingly chose a watery grave just to spite me, I believe. He wasn'tmuch of a duck either. After I had stripped and swum for him, dressedagain, prepared the duck, cooked him, and finally sat down to dinner,there was so little of him that he only amounted to half a meal, and wastough at that!"
"So was your luck," observed Wally.
"Uncommonly tough," agreed the Hermit. "However, these things are thefortunes of war, and one has to put up with them, grin, and play thegame. It's surprising how much tougher things look if you once begin togrumble. I've had so much bad luck in the bush that I've really gotquite used to it."
"How's that?" asked Harry.
"Why," said the Hermit, "if it wasn't one thing, it was mostly another.I beg your pardon, Miss Norah, let me help you over this log. I've hadmy tucker stolen again and again, several times by birds, twice byswaggies, and once by a couple of black fellows pilgrimaging through thebush I don't know whither. They happened on my camp, and helpedthemselves; I reckoned myself very lucky that they only took food,though I've no doubt they would have taken more if I hadn't arrived onthe scene in the nick of time and scared them almost out of their wits."
"How did you do that?" asked Norah; "tell us about it, Mr. Hermit!"
The Hermit smiled down at Norah's eager face.
"Oh, that's hardly a yarn, Miss Norah," he said, his eyes twinkling in away that made them look astonishingly young, despite his white hair andhis wrinkles. "That was only a small happening, though it capped a dayof bad luck. I had been busy in camp all the morning cooking, and hadlaid in quite a supply of tucker, for me. I'd cooked some wild duck, androasted a hare, boiled a most splendid plum-duff and finally baked a bigdamper, and I can tell you I was patting myself on the back because Ineed not do any more cooking for nearly a week, unless it were fish--I'mnot a cook by nature, and pretty often go hungry rather than prepare ameal.
"After dinner I thought I'd go down to the creek and try my luck--it wasa perfect day for fishing, still and grey. So I dug some worms--andbroke my spade in doing so--and started off.
"The promise of the day held good. I went to my favourite spot, and thefish just rushed me--the worms must have been very tempting, or else thefish larder was scantily supplied. At any rate, they bit splendidly, andsoon I grew fastidious, and was picking out and throwing back any thatweren't quite large enough. I fished from the old log over the creek,and soon had a pile of fish, and grew tired of the sport. I was sleepy,too, through hanging over the fire all the morning. I kept on fishingmechanically, but it was little more than holding my bait in the water,and I began nodding and dozing, leaning back on the broad old log.
"I didn't think I had really gone to sleep, though I suppose I must havedone so, because I dreamed a kind of half-waking dream. In it I saw asnake that crept and crept nearer and nearer to me until I could see itswicked eyes gleaming, and though I tried to get away, I could not. Itcame on and on until it was quite near, and I was feeling highlyuncomfortable in my dream. At last I made a great effort, flung out myhand towards a stick, and, with a yell, woke up, to realise that I hadstruck something cold, and clammy, and wet. What it was I couldn't becertain for an instant, until I heard a dull splash, and then I knew. Ihad swept my whole string of fish into the water below!
"Oh, yes, I said things--who wouldn't? I was too disgusted to fish anymore, and the nightmare having thoroughly roused me, I gathered up mytackle and made tracks for home, feeling considerably annoyed withmyself.
"You must know I've a private entrance into my camp. It's a track no onewould suspect of being a track, and by its aid I can approachnoiselessly. I've got into a habit of always sneaking back to camp--justin case anyone should be there. This afternoon I came along quietly,more from force of habit than from any real idea of looking out forintruders. But half-way along it a sound pulled me up suddenly. It wasthe sound of a voice.
"When you haven't heard anyone speak for a good many months, the humanvoice has quite a startling effect upon you--or even the human sneeze,Miss Norah!" added the Hermit, with a twinkle. "I stopped short andlistened with all my might. Presently the voice came again, low andguttural, and I knew it for a native's.
"The conviction didn't fill me with joy, as you may imagine. I stoleforward, until by peeping through the bushes I gained a view of thecamp--and was rewarded with the spectacle of two blacks--ill-favouredbrutes they were, too--quite at home, one in the act of stuffing mycherished roast hare into a dirty bag, the other just taking a
huge biteout of my damper!
"The sight, as you may imagine, didn't fill me with joy. From the bulgesin my black visitors' bag I gathered that the ducks had preceded thehare; and even as I looked, the gentleman with the damper relaxed hiswell-meant efforts, and thrust it, too, into the bag. Then they put downthe bag and dived into the tent, and I heard rustlings and low-tonedremarks that breathed satisfaction. I reckoned it was time to step in.
"Luckily, my gun was outside the tent--indeed I never leave it inside,but have a special hiding-place for it under a handy log, for fear ofstray marauders overhauling my possessions. A gun is a pretty temptingthing to most men, and since my duck-shooting failure I had treatedmyself to a new double-barrel--a beauty.
"I crept to the log, drew out both guns, and then retired to thebushes--a little uncertain, to tell the truth, what to do, for I hadn'tany particular wish to murder my dusky callers; and at the same time,had to remember that they were two to one, and would be unhampered byany feeling of chivalry, if we did come to blows. I made up my mind totry to scare them--and suddenly I raised the most horrible, terrifying,unearthly yell I could think of, and at the same time fired both barrelsof one gun quickly in the air!
"The effect was instantaneous. There was one howl of horror, and theblack fellows darted out of the tent! They almost cannoned into me--andyou know I must look a rum chap in these furry clothes and cap, with mygrandfatherly white beard! At all events, they seemed to think me so,for at sight of me they both yelled in terror, and bolted away as fastas their legs could carry them. I cheered the parting guests by howlingstill more heartily, and firing my two remaining barrels over theirheads as they ran. They went as swiftly as a motor-car disappears fromview--I believe they reckoned they'd seen the bunyip. I haven't seen atrace of them since.
"They'd had a fine time inside the tent. Everything I possessed had beeninvestigated, and one or two books badly torn--the wretches!" said theHermit ruefully. "My clothes (I've a few garments beside these beauties,Miss Norah) had been pulled about, my few papers scattered wildly, andeven my bunk stripped of blankets, which lay rolled up ready to becarried away. There wasn't a single one of my poor possessions that hadescaped notice, except, of course, my watch and money, which I keepcarefully buried. The tent was a remarkable spectacle, and so close andreminiscent of black fellow that my first act was to undo the sides andlet the fresh air play through. I counted myself very lucky to get offas lightly as I did--had I returned an hour later none of my goods andchattels would have been left."
"What about the tucker?" Harry asked; "did they get away with the bagthey'd stowed it in?"
"Not they!" said the Hermit; "they were far too scared to think of bagsor tucker. They almost fell over it in their efforts to escape, butneither of them thought of picking it up. It was hard luck for them,after they'd packed it so carefully."
"Is that how you looked at it?" Jim asked, laughing.
"Well--I tried to," said the Hermit, laughing in his turn. "Sometimes itwas pretty hard work--and I'll admit that for the first few days my ownmisfortunes were uppermost."
"But you didn't lose your tucker after all, you said?" queried Wally. "Ithought they left the bag?"
"They did," the Hermit admitted. "But have you ever explored theinterior of a black fellow's bag, Master Wally? No? Well, if you had,you would understand that I felt no further hankerings over thosemasterpieces of the cook's art. I'm not extra particular, I believe, butI couldn't tackle them--no thanks! I threw them into the scrub--and thenwashed my hands!"
"Poor you!" said Norah.
"Oh, I wasn't so badly off," said the Hermit. "They'd left me theplum-duff, which was hanging in its billy from a bough. Lots of duff--Ihad it morning, noon and night, until I found something fresh tocook--and I haven't made duff since. And here we are at the creek!"
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