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Updated: June 4, 2025
They've GOT to go. He turned fiercely on Wombo, who stood sullen and defiant again, and from him to Oola, who crouched in the dust, sobbing pitifully and rubbing her damaged arm. 'Stop that! YAN do you hear? The whip lashed out again. It stung Wombo's bare leg, and flicked Oola's petticoat. The two ran screaming lustily towards the rocks and scrubby country at the head of the gully.
Seeing her condition, he took her up in his arms, and carried her along the veranda towards her own room. The clasp of his arms, the warmth of his body, even through his wet clothing helped her to steady herself. She continued to tell him of the great achievement. 'Wombo has escaped I saw Oola taking the key out of your room. Harris was asleep snoring.
All I know is, that Mr Maule had the key of the hide-house in his bedroom that night, and, being a close friend of her Ladyship's, he was no doubt aware that she didn't relish the notion of Wombo's being had up for theft and murder I'm not saying who it was let out Wombo. It's a mystery I don't take upon myself to fathom I'll leave that to you.
Now, as they pulled up at the fence, Wombo presented a sorry spectacle a spear wound in his left shoulder, a spear graze on his leg, his wrists handcuffed and his feet tied to the stirrup-iron with cords so tight that they cut into his tough, black flesh.
Bridget took the watch from her hand, detached the key from the chain, and slipped watch and chain into the pocket of her coat, while Oola, clutching Lady Bridget's knees, pleaded chokily: 'Mithsis you gib me key no make im noise. No tell pollis-man me let out Wombo. My word! plenty quick he YAN long-a scrub. BA-AL pollis-man catch Wombo. Mithsis BUJERI White Mary! You gib it key to Oola.
But there remained still something of the PREUX CHEVALIER about Wombo. 'Mine bring it gin belonging to me, he announced with dignity, making an introductory gesture towards what appeared almost an excresence upon the black trunk of a gidia tree except for an old red blanket slung round one shoulder, which only half covered a woman's dusky form. 'That Oola. Mine want 'im marry Oola.
He jumped on to the veranda, clicked his teeth in an admiring ejaculation as he gazed at Lady Bridget. 'My word! BUJERI feller White Mary you! ... new feller Mithsis belonging to Boss. My word! Then as McKeith drew up his horses in front of the hotel, Wombo and Moongarr Bill sprang to the heads of wheelers and leaders.
All that the afflicted one can do is to fly to hide himself beyond the sorcerer's ken and the reach of pursuit. For this reason, Wombo and Oola had fled back to Moongarr. No outside black dared venture within range of McKeith's gun. Now Wombo and Oola besought Bridget to hide them from the vengeful furies. There was that slab and bark hut at the end of the kitchen and store wing.
The quick CLOP-CLOP of a four horse team and a clatter of tin billys and pannikins as Lady Bridget presently discovered slung upon the back rail of an American buggy sounded up the street. 'There's the Boss, said Moongarr Bill. 'Look alive, with that packhorse, Wombo.
She brought them cooked meat, bread and a ration of tea and sugar, provided them with a pair of blankets, and found for Wombo some old moleskins, a shirt, and a pair of boots, while Oola almost forgot the medicine man's evil spell in her puzzled delight over a lacey undergarment and a discarded kimono dressing-grown, which had been part of Lady Bridget's trousseau.
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