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Updated: June 4, 2025
And how should a husband expect an explanation when he had literally thrown her into her lover's arms, or at least had left her defenceless against his solicitations! Had he treated her differently after the Wombo episode in the beginning, she might have told him the truth about her former relations with Willoughby Maule.
He did not know the country at the head of the gully, where he concluded that Wombo was hiding, and lost himself in the gidia scrub. Thus, he was in a very disagreeable temper, when he at last arrived at the Bachelors' Quarters.
'Well, I don't call Blacks fellow-creatures. Do you suppose we should not all be having spears thrown at us if the niggers weren't afraid of Mr McKeith's gun? 'You have my orders, repeated Lady Bridget sharply, her wrath at white heat. 'I take no orders from anybody but the Boss, and his orders were that if Wombo brought the gin here, they'd got to be driven off, retorted Mrs Hensor.
Wombo could have pulled the thing out, and in a few hours the gin would have been all right again. 'You think so well in a few hours she was in a high fever. I took her temperature this morning when I re-bandaged the wound. McKeith laughed shortly. 'It wouldn't be surprising, if you had given her grog and tobacco and as much meat as she wanted. That what you did, eh? 'Yes, it was.
'You won't hear what he's got to put forward on his side any more than you would listen to poor Wombo. 'No, I won't. I'm not taking any either in gins or in organisers. Let 'em show their faces here, and they'll pretty soon become aware of the fact. Lady Bridget took away her hands and moved to the veranda. Outside, McKeith's horse was waiting.
Mrs Hensor contemptuously surveyed Wombo and his erring partner. 'Serve them right. He's stolen her from her husband and the Blacks have given them what for. They don't need any fussing over, these niggers. They are used to being knocked about. Lady Bridget's eyes blazed, but her tone was icy. 'I suppose you understand that I've given you my orders to attend to a wounded fellow-creature.
At the gully crossing, Maule, on his way back from the tailing-mob, overtook them, and dismounting, walked with Lady Bridget to the house. She forgot then all the scene of last evening, told him the black's story, begged him to help her in the rescue of Wombo. He reflected for a minute or two. 'We're up against Harris, he said, 'and Harris has a grudge against all of us.
To-night he was in the latter mood and this incensed Lady Bridget. 'I've been writing up the log, he began in a surly, aggressive tone, 'and I thought I'd better make a note of Wombo and that gin having come to the head-station, in case of there being trouble with the Blacks. 'Why should there be trouble with the Blacks? she asked, in manner equally unconciliatory.
Only for heaven's sake, stop crying, said Lady Bridget. 'Come along. You must have that spear pulled out and your arm seen to. Come with me to the Humpey. Quick MURRA* make haste. But Wombo drew back, casting an affrighted glance down the gully towards the crossing. 'Ba'al me go long-a Humpey I believe Boss PHO-PHO*, Oola, he said. 'Wombo, you are foolish. What for Boss shoot Oola?
Not long before, the Police Inspector had locked up a horse stealer, whom he had in charge, in the hide-house for a few hours while he took a meal. To Bridget it seemed an irony that Wombo should be imprisoned in the very room he had so lately shared with his stolen gin.
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