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Updated: June 18, 2025
Sam did his best with Bunday, serving hot rolls with mysterious markings on them for breakfast, and by midday he had the homestead to himself, the Maluka and I being camped at Bitter Springs and every one else being elsewhere. Our business was yard-inspection, with Goggle-Eye as general factotum. We, of course, had ridden out, but Goggle-Eye had preferred to walk.
Mac called it a "tip-top record for the Wet," and the Maluka agreed with him; for in the Territory it is not the number of miles that counts, but what is met with in those miles. During the first afternoon we met so many amiable-looking watercourses, that the Sanguine Scot grew more and hopeful about crossing the Fergusson that night.
So many lubras put themselves on the homestead staff to fill the place left vacant by Nellie, that the one room was filled to overflowing while the work was being done, and the Maluka was obliged to come to the rescue once more. He reduced the house staff to two, allowing a shadow or two extra in the persons of a few old black fellows and a piccaninny or two, sending the rejected to camp.
"Please yourself!" the Maluka laughed, and with a flash of white teeth and an infectious chuckle Cheon laughed and nodded back; then, still chuckling, he waddled away to the kitchen and took possession there, while we went to our respective dinners, little guessing that the truest-hearted, most faithful, most loyal old "josser" had waddled into our lives.
It would just serve them right if she went; and the men folk pointed out that this was, now, hardly flattering to the missus. The Maluka passed the interruption by without comment.
Perhaps we could tame one of the flash buck-jumpers, the Maluka suggested. But Mac said it "wouldn't be as bad as that," and, making full confession, placed old Roper at our service. By morning, however, a magnificent chestnut "Flash," well-broken into the side-saddle, had been conjured up from somewhere by the Creek.
"Of course I do; I didn't understand, that was all." "We haven't finished her education yet," Dan explained, and the Maluka added, "But she's learning." Johnny looked perplexed. "Oh, well! That's all right, then," he said, rather ambiguously. "I'll be back as soon as possible, and then we shan't be long."
Sam said, with his unfathomable smile, when Mac flared out at him, and again the missus appeared the culprit. The Maluka advised making the orders a little clearer, and Sam was told to use more discretion in his obedience, and, smiling and apologetic, promised to obey. The lubras also promised to be more painstaking, reserving only the right to rest if they should "knock up longa work."
Then a new need arose: Johnny wanted several yards of strong string, and a "sup" of ink, to make guiding lines on the timber for his saw; but as only sewing cotton was forthcoming, and the Maluka refused to part with one drop of his precious ink, we were obliged to go down to the beginning of things once more: two or three lubras were set to work to convert the sewing-cotton into tough, strong string, while others prepared a substitute for the ink from burnt water-lily roots.
"It's only a matter of holding on and keeping cool"; and as the Maluka began to haul he added final instructions. "Hang on like grim death, and keep cool, whatever happens," he said. I promised to obey, and all went well until I reached mid-stream.
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