CHAPTER XII
OF POULTRY
A man would soon wonder how it's done, The stock so soon decreases! A. B. PATERSON
"Where are you off to, Norah?"
"To feed the chickens."
"May I come with you, my pretty maid?"
"Delighted!" said Norah. "Here's a load for you."
"Even to stagger under thy kerosene tin were ever a joy!" respondedWally, seizing the can of feed as he spoke--the kerosene tin of thebush, that serves so many purposes, from bucket to cooking stove, andmay end its days as a flower pot, or, flattened out, as roofing iron."Anyhow, you oughtn't to carry this thing, Norah; it's too heavy. Whywill you be such a goat?"
Under this direct query, put plaintively, Norah had the grace to lookabashed.
"Well, I don't, as a rule," she said. "It's really Billy's job to carryit for me, but Jim has been coming with me since he came home, so ofcourse young Billy's got out of hand. And Jim's gone across with Dad tosee old Derrimut, so I had no one. I looked for you and couldn't findyou. And I asked Cecil politely to accompany me, but he put hiseyebrows up, and said fowls didn't interest him. Oh, Wally, don't youthink it's terribly hard to find subjects that do interest Cecil?"
"Hard!" said Wally expressively. "Well, it beats me, anyhow. But thenCecil regards me with scorn and contumely, and, to tell you the truth,Nor., when I see him coming I quiver like--like a blancmange! He's soawfully superior!"
"You know, I'm sure he's not enjoying himself," Norah went on; "and itreally worries us, 'cause we hate to think of anyone being here and nothaving a good time. But he does keep his nose so in the air, doesn'the?"
"Beats me how you're so nice to him," Wally averred. "My word, it woulddo that lad good to have a year or two at our school! I guess it wouldtake some of the nonsense out of him. Was he ever young?"
"I shouldn't think so," Norah said, laughing--"he has such a loftycontempt for anything at all juvenile now. Well, at least he's lookingbetter than when he came, so Billabong is doing him good in one way atany rate, and that is a comfort. But I'm sure he's counting the daysuntil he goes away."
"Well, so am I," said Wally, cheerfully. "So at least there are two ofus, and I should think there were several more. It's pleasant to findeven one subject on which one can be a twin-soul with Cecil.Norah"--solemnly--"I have counted eleven different pairs of socks on thatJohnny since I came, and each was more brilliant than the last!"
"I don't doubt it," Norah laughed. "They're the admiration of thelaundry here, and even the men stopped and looked at them as they werehanging on the line last week. Dave Boone was much interested in thatgreen pair with the gold stripes, and asked Sarah what football clubthey belonged to!"
"Great Scott!" said Wally explosively. "Can you imagine Cecil playingfootball?"
"I can't--I wish I could," Norah answered. "Well, never mind Cecil--he'sa tiring subject. Tell me what you think of my chicks."
Norah's special fowl yard was a grassy run divided into two parts, withsmall houses and wire-netted enclosures in each. At present one wasdevoted to a couple of mothers with clutches of ten and twelvechickens--all white Orpingtons. The mothers were stately, comfortabledames, and the chicks, round little creamy balls, very tame andfascinating. They came quite close to Norah as she stooped to feedthem, and one chick, bolder than his brethren, even stood on the backof her hand. Wally admired without stint, and proceeded to dischargethe practical duty of rinsing out the water tins and filling themafresh.
In the other yard a number of older chickens grew and prospered; thesealso were all white, of the Leghorn breed, and Norah was immenselyproud of them. She sat down on the end of a box and pointed out theirvaried beauties.
"I should have more--lots more," she said, dolefully. "But I've hadhorrible trouble with pigs. Why anybody keeps pigs at all I can'timagine!"
"They're handy when preserved," Wally remarked. "But what did they doto you?"
"I had a lot of hens sitting this year," said the owner of theyard--"sitting on lovely eggs, too, Wally! Some I got from Cunjee, andsome from Westwood, and two special sittings from Melbourne. I wasgoing to be awfully rich! You couldn't imagine all I'd planned with theimmense sums I was going to make."
"There's a proverb," said Wally, sententiously, "about counting yourchickens."
"You're quite the twelfth person who's mentioned that," Norah said,with some asperity. "Anyhow, I never counted them; I only became richin a vague way, and it was very comforting. I'm glad I had thatcomfort, for it was all I had."
"Norah, you thrill my very soul with awful fears," Wally gasped. "Tellme the worst!"
"Donkey!" said Norah, unsympathetically. "Well, they were set. I fixedup the boxes myself, and lined them so beautifully that when they wereready, and the eggs in, it was all I could do to prevent myself sittingon them!"
"I know," Wally nodded. "And then the hens wouldn't sit, would they?They never do, when you make the nests especially tempting. I had anold Cochin once who used to sit quite happily for six months at a timeon a clod and a bit of stone, expecting to hatch out a half-acreallotment and a town hall; but if you put her on twelve beautiful eggsshe simply wouldn't look at them! Makes you vow you'll give up keepinghens at all."
"It would," Norah said. "Only mine didn't do that."
"Oh!" said Wally, a little blankly. "What did they do, then?"
"Sat--"
"And ate the eggs--I know," Wally burst in. "My old brute used to eatone a day if you got her to sit. I remember once it was a race betweenher and the eggs, and I used to haunt the nest, wondering would she get'em all eaten before they hatched. They beat her by one--one poor chickcame out. The shock was too much for the old hen, and she deserted it,and I poddied it in a box for a week, and called it Moses, and it wouldeat out of my hand, and then it died!" He gasped for breath, and Norahgazed with undisguised admiration at the orator.
"So I know how you'd feel," Wally finished.
"I might--but my hens weren't cannibals. They didn't eat any."
"You had luck," said the unabashed Wally. "Well, what happened?"
"They sat quite nicely--"
"And the eggs were addled, weren't they? It's always the way with halfthese swagger sittings you buy from dealers. They--"
"Oh, Wally, I WISH you wouldn't be so intelligent!" said Norah, withnot unnatural heat. "How am I ever going to tell you?"
"Why, I thought you were telling me as hard as ever you could!" Wallyresponded, visibly indignant "Well, fire away; I won't speak anotherword!"
"I don't think you could help it," Norah laughed. "However, I'd eighthens sitting, and I really do believe that they understood theirresponsibilities, for they set as if they were glued, except when theycame off for necessary exercise and refreshment. Even then, they nevergave me any of the usual bother about refusing to go back into theright box, or scratching the eggs out. They behaved like perfectladies--I might have known it was too bright to last!" She heaved asigh.
"I know you're working up to some horrible tragedy, and I'm sure Iwon't be able to bear it!" said her hearer, much agitated. "Tell me theworst!"
"So they sat--"
"You said that before!"
"Well, they sat before--and after," said Norah, unmoved. "Two of thembrought their eggs out, beautiful clutches, twelve in one and thirteenin the other. Such luck! I used to be like the old woman who pinchedherself and asked, 'Be this I?' They all lived in a fox-proofyard--fence eight feet high with wire-netting on top. I wasn't leavinganything to chance about those chicks."
"Was it cholera? Or pip?"
"Neither," said Norah. "They were the very healthiest, all of them. Thechickens grew and flourished, and when they were about a week old, theother six hens were all about to bring out theirs within two days. Oh,Wally, I was so excited! I used to go down to the yard about a dozentimes a day, just to gloat!"
"Never gloat too soon," said Wally. "It's a hideous risk!"
"I'm never going to gloat again at all, I think," said N
orah,mournfully. The recital of her woes was painful. "So I went down onemorning, and found them all happy and peaceful; the six old ladiessitting in their boxes, and the two proud mammas with their chicks,scratching round the yard and chasing grasshoppers. It was," saidNorah, in the approved manner of story-tellers, "a fair and joyousscene!"
"'Specially for the grasshoppers!" commented her hearer. "And then--?"
"Then I went out for a ride with Dad, and I didn't get back until latein the afternoon. I let Bobs go, and ran down to the fowl yard withoutwaiting to change my habit." Norah paused. "I really don't know that Ican bring myself to tell you any more!"
"If you don't," said Wally, indignantly, "there'll certainly bebloodshed. Go on at once--
"Am I a man on human plan Designed, or am I not, Matilda?"
"H'm," said Norah. "Well, I'm not Matilda, anyway! However, I openedthe gate of the yard. And then I stood there and just gaped at what Isaw."
"Dogs?"
"Our dogs are decently trained," Norah said, much offended. "No, itwasn't dogs--it was pigs!"
"Whew-w!" whistled Wally.
"Pigs. They had burrowed in right under the fence; there was a greatbig hole there. And they'd eaten every chicken, and every egg in theyard. My lovely boxes were all knocked over, and the nests torn tobits, and there wasn't so much as an eggshell left. The poor old henswere just demented--they were going round and round the yard, cluckingand calling, and altogether like mad things. And in the middle of itall, fat and happy and snoring--three pigs!"
"What did you do?" Wally felt that this case was beyond the reach ofordinary words of sympathy.
"Couldn't do anything. I chased the beasts out of the yard, and threweverything I could find at them--but you can't hurt a pig. And Dad washorrid--advised me to have them killed, so that at least we could haveeggs and bacon!" Norah laughed, in spite of her woebegone tone.
"And he calls himself a father!" said Wally, solemnly.
"Oh, he wasn't really horrid," Norah answered. "He wrote off to townand bought me a very swagger pair of Plymouth Rocks--just beauties. Theycost three guineas!"
"Three guineas!" said the awestruck youth. "What awful waste! Where arethey, Norah? Show me them at once!"
"Can't," Norah responded, sadly.
"You don't mean--?"
"Oh, I've had a terrible year with fowls," said the dejected poultrykeeper. "Those Plymouth Rocks came just before the Cunjee show, and Dadentered them for me, 'cause the dealer had told him they would beatanything there. And I think they would have--only just after he sold Dadmine, a Cunjee man bought a pair for five guineas. He showed his, too!"Norah sighed.
"Oh!" said Wally.
"So I got second. However, they were very lovely, and so tame. I wastruly fond of Peter."
"Why Peter?"
"Oh, Peter means a Rock," said Norah. "I heard it in a sermon. He was abeautiful bird. I think he was too beautiful to live, 'cause he becameill--I don't know what it was, but he pined away. I used to nurse himever so; for the last two days of his poor young life I fed him everyhour with brandy and strong soup out of the spout of the invalidfeeder. Brownie was quite annoyed when she found I'd used it for him,"said Norah, reflectively.
"But he was an invalid, wasn't he?" asked Wally.
"Of course he was--and it's an invalid feeder. I don't see what it'sfor, if not for the sick. But it didn't do him any good. I went outabout ten o'clock one night and wrapped him in hot flannel, and he wasrattling inside his poor chest; and in the morning I went out at fiveand he was dead!"
"Poor old Nor.!"
"So I tied a bit of black stuff on the gate and went back to bed," saidNorah, pensively.
Wally grinned. "And what became of Mrs. Peter?"
"Oh, Mrs. Peter was a lovely hen," Norah said, "and very healthy. Shenever seemed to feel any of Peter's delicacy. He was a very refinedbird. There was another show coming on at Mulgoa, and I found among theother fowls another Mr. Peter, and it struck me I would have a try forthe prize. Mrs. Peter was so good that I felt I'd get it unless thefive-guinea Plymouth Rock man came up. So I fed up the new Peter andhad them looking very well the day before the show. And then--"
"Yes?" said Wally, as she paused.
"Then a new dog of Burton's killed Mrs. Peter," said Norah, "so I gaveup showing poultry!"
"I should think you did," said the sympathetic auditor. "What did yourfather say?"
"He was very nice; and very angry with the dog; but he didn't buy meany more valuable fowls--and I expect that was just as well," saidNorah, laughing. "I don't seem to have luck when it comes to keepingpoultry. Jim says it's management, but then Jim never kept any himself.And it does make a difference to your views if you keep them yourself."
"It does," Wally agreed. "I used to lose ever so many in Queensland,but then things are really rough on fowls up there--climate and snakesand lots of odd things, including crocodiles! When I came down toschool I left a lot of hens, and twelve eggs under one old lady hen,who should have hatched 'em out a few days after I left. And the wholelot went wandering and found some poison my brother had put out for acat!" Wally wiped his eyes elaborately.
"And died?"
"It was suicide, I think," said Wally, nodding. "But I always hadcomfort about that lot, because I still have hopes that those twelveeggs hadn't hatched."
"I don't see what that has to do with it," Norah said, plainly puzzled.
"Why, don't you understand? If they hatched I must have lost them alongwith the others; but if they didn't hatch, I didn't lose so many, for,not having them to lose, I couldn't very well lose them, could I?Q.E.D.!" finished Wally, triumphantly. "That's Philosophy!"
"You're a credit to your teachers, old man," said a new voice; and Jimmade his appearance behind the fence, over which he proceeded to climblaboriously.
"Yes, I'm a nice boy," said modest Mr. Meadows. "Sometimes I think youdon't appreciate me--"
"Perish the thought!" said Jim, solemnly.
"But I always feel that honest worth will tell in the end," finishedWally. "Jim, you great, uncivilized rogue, unhand me!" There was astrenuous interlude, during which the Leghorn chicks fled shrieking tothe farthest corner of their domain. Finally Jim stepped unwittingly,in the joy of battle, into the kerosene tin, which was fortunatelyempty, and a truce was made while he scraped from a once immaculatebrown leather legging the remains of the Leghorns' breakfast.
"Serve you right," said Wally, adjusting his tie, which hadmysteriously appeared under his right ear. "Norah and I were talkingbeautifully, and you hadn't any business to come poke your nose in, ifyou couldn't behave, had he Nor.?" Whereat Norah and Jim grinnedcheerfully at each other, and Wally collapsed, remarking withindignation that you couldn't hope to get justice for either of theLinton twins when it came to dealing with the other.
"We're not twins!" said Norah.
"No," said her guest, "I think you're worse!" Withdrawing, he sat inmelancholy isolation on a hen coop, and gave himself up, veryappropriately, to brooding.
"Well, I'm sorry if I broke up the party," Jim said, relinquishing thetask of polishing his leggings with marshmallow leaves and looking atits streaked surface disconsolately. Jim might--and did--scorn coats andwaistcoats in the summer, and revel in soft shirts and felt hats; buthis riding equipment was a different matter, and from Garryowen's bitand irons to his own boots, all had to be in apple pie order. "Norah,may I have your hanky to rub this up? No? You haven't one! Well, I'msurprised at you!" He rubbed it, quite ineffectually, with the crown ofhis hat, and still looked pained. "Never mind, I'll get hold of sometan stuff when I go in. What I came to say when you attacked me, youngWally--"
"When I attacked you! I like that!" spluttered the justly indignantWally.
"Didn't you? I thought you did," grinned Jim. "My mistake, I suppose.Well, anyhow, when you attacked Norah--quiet, Wally, bother you; how cana fellow get a word out?--what I came to mention was that Dad wants us."
"Oh!" said Norah, gathering herself up.
"Why didn't you say so before?"
"Too busy, and you and Wal. do prattle so. Anyhow, he's not in atearing hurry, 'cause he said he was going to have an hour at hisincome-tax--and you know what that means."
"Solitude is always best for Dad when he's income-taxing," said Norah."It has the most horrible effect on his usual serenity. My dear oldHermit used to help him, of course; but now--well, no wonder he'sstarting early! How's Derrimut, Jimmy?"
"Going on splendidly; Dad and I are quite proud of ourselves as vets.,"said her brother. "We made quite a good job of the old chap; I believehe'll hardly have a blemish. By George, you should have seen Cecil atthat operation! He had one rope to hold and he was scared to death."
"So was I," said Wally, grinning. "I was always as timid as a rabbit."
"You!" said Jim, laughing. "Well, you held three ropes, anyway, and Ididn't notice that you looked pale."
"My face won't let me," said his chum. "But I FELT pale!"
"Well Cecil looked and felt it," Jim said. "Of course, you don'texactly blame a town chap for not taking to that sort of thing like aduck to water. Still, there's a limit--and I'll swear Norah would havemade a fuss. As far as that goes, Dad says he's known our grandmother,in the early days, have to help at a much worse job for a beast thanfixing up old Derry's leg. Lots of women had to. They wouldn't like it,of course, but they certainly wouldn't have made it harder for the manthey were helping by putting on frills!"
"Well, you'd hate to have to get a woman to do a job like that."
"Of course you would. You'd never do it unless it came to a question ofsaving a beast or easing its pain. But if it did come to the point, adecent woman with backbone would lend a hand, just as she's help if itwas the man himself that was hurt. At least, most Australian womenwould, or most of those in the country, at any rate. I'd disown Norahif she didn't."
"I should hope so!" said Norah, quietly.
"At the same time, I've not the remotest intention of employing you asa vet., old woman," said Jim, untying her hair ribbons in a brotherlyfashion. "Quite enough for you to act in that capacity for that rumbeggar, Lal Chunder--who's departed, by the way, leaving you hisblessing and a jolly little brass tray. The blessing was ratherunintelligible, but there's no doubt about the tray."
"Bother!" said Norah, vexedly. "Silly man! I don't want him to give mepresents--and that wound of his ought certainly to have been lookedafter for a few days."
"He said he was going to travel with Ram Das--and old Ram'll see that heties it up, I expect," said Jim, with unconcern. "I wouldn't bother,old first-aid; it looked tip-top when you dressed it before breakfast."
"I'd have given him rag for it, anyway," said Norah, still troubled.
"He can always tear half a yard or so off that turban of his," Jimsaid. "Don't go out of your way to meet worry, my girl--it'll alwayscome quickly enough to meet you. Which is philosophy quite equal toWally's!" He sighed. "Here's trouble coming to meet us now, that'scertain!"
Mates at Billabong Page 12
