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Between three and four hundred head. The water is running still up in the range. We should have done better if that skunk Wombo hadn't bolted. Lady Bridget leaned forward with interest. 'Oh! Then he HAS gone after the black-gin. Brave Wombo! 'I wouldn't care a cuss whether he went after the black-gin or not; she's a half-caste, by the way, and all the worse for that.
He leaned forward, facing Harris with his hands on the paper which he had laid on the table before him. He picked up the other's last words. 'Yes, that IS all. It's the only part of this note which concerns you. Well, I can tell you that it was the half-caste woman, as I thought, who let Wombo out of the hide-house.
He did not care in the least how Wombo had escaped. It seemed clear to him that Oola had stolen the key after Harris had gone back to his room, while Maule and his wife were together together in Lady Bridget's own chamber. The blood surged to his brain, and his temples throbbed as though they would burst.
You've got to have 'em though for stock boys, and I keep my heel on the lot at Moongarr. Wombo and Cudgee aren't bad chaps so long as they are kept clear of their tribe. How do you like the new buggy, my lady? A dandy go-cart, eh? He looked as pleased as a child with a new toy carriage.
Nothing was heard of the Blacks during the next day or two, but one morning Ninnis discovered that an old gun, which the station hands and the black-boys were allowed to use on Sundays for shooting game in the lagoon, had disappeared in the night. Circumstantial evidence pointed to Wombo as the thief. Cudgee owned to having seen him skulking among the Gully rocks.
It appeared that the tribe had followed in hot pursuit of the fugitives, and, knowing his peril, Wombo had sneaked up to the head-station in the darkness, possessed himself of an effectual weapon, and fled away with the gun. The offended blacks had discovered the guilty pair on the outskirts of Breeza Downs, and Oola's husband, with a company of braves, had attacked their gunya. My word!
Wombo catch him PHO PHO. Plenty quick husband belonging to me TUMBLE DOWN. And Oola wailed anew. 'Where's Wombo now? Bridget asked. Pollis-man close-up black's camp. That feller Harris catch 'im Wombo fetch um long-a Tunumburra gaol. Mine think it stop to-night Moongarr. Close-up station now. Lady Bridget at once saw through the affair.
'YUCKE*! Poor fellow, Oola! Wombo pulled her forward. A comely half-caste who, as a child, had been partially civilised by a stockman's wife on one of the Leura out-stations, but who had, later, gone back to her tribe and married a Myall, as the wild blacks are called.
I can do my own dirty jobs, said McKeith shortly. He had released the pair and now stood grimly surveying them. Oola was crying and squealing; Wombo stood upright a scowl of hate on his face. His whole nature seemed changed. A flogging will rouse the semi-civilised black's evil passions like nothing else.
He seemed to sense the antagonism in her, and demanded at once, without waiting to give her any greeting. 'Biddy, what's this I'm hearing about Wombo and that gin? 'I think you might have asked me before going to Mrs Hensor for information, she answered with equal curtness. He stared at her for a moment or two as if surprised; his face reddened, and his eyes, too, glittered.
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