A Little Bush Maid by Mary Grant Bruce

Author:Mary Grant Bruce [Bruce, Mary Grant]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adventure stories, Australian, Country life -- Australia -- Juvenile fiction, Australia -- Social conditions -- Juvenile fiction
Published: 2005-08-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

They forded the creek carefully, for the water was high, and it was dark in the shadows of the trees on the banks. Jim knew the way well, and so did Norah, and they led, followed by the other boys. When they had crossed, it was necessary to go steadily in the dim light. The track was only wide enough for them to ride in Indian file, which is not a method of locomotion which assists conversation, and they rode almost in silence.

It was queer, down there in the bush, with only cries of far-off birds to break the quiet. Owls and mopokes hooted dismally, and once a great flapping thing flew into Harry’s face, and he uttered a startled yell before he realised that it was only one of the night birds—whereat mirth ensued at the expense of Harry. Then to scare away the hooters they put silence to flight with choruses, and the old bush echoed to “Way Down Upon the Swanee River” and more modern songs, which aren’t half so sweet as the old Christy Minstrel ditties. After they had exhausted all the choruses they knew, Harry “obliged” with one of Gordon’s poems, recited with such boyish simplicity combined with vigour that it quite brought down the audience, who applauded so loudly that the orator was thankful for the darkness to conceal his blushes.

“Old Harry’s our champion elocutioner at school, you know,” Wally said. “You should have heard him last Speech Day! He got more clapping than all the rest put together.”

“Shut up, young Wally!” growled Harry in tones of affected wrath.

“Same to you,” said Wally cheerfully. “Why, you had all the mammas howling into their hankies in your encore piece!”

After which nothing would satisfy Norah but another recitation, and another after that; and then the timber ended, and there was only the level plain be tween them and home, with the moon just high enough to make it sufficiently light for a gallop. They tore wildly homeward, and landed in a slightly dishevelled bunch at the gate of the paddock.

No one was about the stables.

“Men all gone off somewhere,” said Jim laconically, proceeding to let his pony go. His example was followed by each of the others, the steeds dismissed with a rub and a pat, and the saddles placed on the stands.

“Well, I don’t know about you chaps,” said Jim, “but I’m as hungry as a hunter!”

“Same here,” chorused the chaps.

“Come along and see what good old Brownie’s put by for us,” said Norah, disappearing towards the house like a small comet.

The boys raced after her. In the kitchen doorway Mrs. Brown stood, her broad face resplendent with smiles.

“I was just beginning to wonder if any of you had fallen into the creek,” she said. “You must be hungry, poor dears. Supper’s ready.”

“Where’s Dad?” asked Norah.

“Your Pa’s gone to Sydney.”

“Sydney!”

“Yes, my dears. A tallygrum came for him—something about some valuable cattle to be sold, as he wants.”

“Oh,” said Jim, “those shorthorns he was talking about?”

“Very like, Master Jim.

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