CHAPTER I
The evening air was hot and oppressive. Whisperings of a north wind came over the hills. The old gum-tree, which grew over the homestead, quivered, and turned the edges of its leaves to catch the silvery light of a new moon, which cut its way across the sky. The swish-swish of wild cats and the cries of opossums were heard. A weird boom, from bittern or bunyip, came from the swamp, and the curlew's solemn call echoed in the ranges.
"Just the time for love!" So thought Lanky Tim, who stood leaning against the doorpost of the kitchen. He seemed to be holding it up with the angle of his left shoulder. The light of a great, blazing fire fell upon his sharp, handsome face.
Annie Coonie, the cook, was bending over a large basin into which honey was dripping from a sack hanging by a hook over the mantelpiece. Two of the station hands had cut down a "bee-tree" on Vinegar Hill, and had brought home the contents of the hive. The honey was coming from the sack as clear as amber and smelling of wattle-blossom.
"Now, listen to me, Annie," said Tim; "you're as sweet as honey, by a deal: that's the blasted truth, an' no mistake about it."
"Oh, go away, Tim! you'll not earn your pound a week, an' found, by holdin' up that post—chances are you'll carry it away like as Samson carried off the gates of Gaza."
"Who's he, Annie? Seems I've heard o' him. I'd more likely carry you off. I'll make a lady of you if you'll only say yes. You'll have a silk dress, a diamond ring, an' servants to wait on you. I've got 640 acres of good land, two houses in Melbourne, an' money in the bank. Just say you'll be mine, and they are yours!"
"Nonsense! Rich men don't work for twenty shillin' a week, an' live in a slab-hut."
"I only do it, Annie, to be near you, an' that's no lie."
"'Near, an' yet so far,' as the dog said to the 'possum up the gum-tree."
"If you'll only marry me, you'll never need to work another stroke, Annie. We'll go to the theayter every night, an' be as happy as the day is long."
"Samson carried the jawbone of the ass in his hand; you carry it in your head. Clear out! If Alec comes he'll give you a good hiding."
Alec was Annie's sweetheart, and she expected him any moment. She was loyal to him, never allowing her thoughts to wander to any of the many suitors for her hand. She was a selector's daughter, and the belle of all the Broken River district.
"Alec's a poor sort of chap for a handsome girl like you to marry," said Jim.
Annie's face was aflame in a moment. Before a rough sarcasm could rattle out of her mouth, a big figure darted across the open door. An arm shot out and gave Lanky Tim a clout in the ear, which sent him sprawling on the ground. He scrambled up in a hurry, and disappeared behind the projecting stone chimney.
Alec, for it was he, went into the kitchen laughing, and rubbing his knuckles, which had been jarred by coming in contact with Tim's ear.
"I saw Tim making love to you, Annie," said Alec.
"What did you say to him?"
"Not a word; but he'll hear my reply tingling in his ear for a long time."
"I told him you would give him a good hiding. He said he had 640 acres of land, two houses in Melbourne, an' money in the bank. He offered to give me all if I would marry him."
"The hound!" said Alec; "he hasn't 640 pence to bless himself with. He's the greatest bragger in Australia. When the boss took him on he had hardly a shirt to his back. He hadn't been a week on the station when he made out as how he was a nobleman's son in disguise, an' that his uncle had left him a stack of money, but he wouldn't take it yet, as he wanted to get Colonial experience."
"It's my opinion," said Annie, "that he left the shirt you speak of with his uncle, to raise the wind which blew him up here. It's all blow with him!"
"Blowed if I can make him out," said Alec. "Last week he said he had found a gold-mine. Yesterday he bragged he had discovered diamonds. The more a man brags the less in his bags. The less a man knows the more he blows."
"That basin is about full of honey, Alec. Reach down another, an' put it under the bag while I take the full one away. So, that will do."
Alec seated himself on a chair, as far from the fire as he could, and mopped his brow with a whitey-brown handkerchief. The heat of the kitchen was stifling. It was hot enough outside; here it was almost unbearable. Annie was as cool as a cucumber. She was accustomed to a roaring fire, even when the thermometer stood at a hundred degrees in the shade.
A fit of silence came over Alec. He knitted his brows, and looked thoughtful. Jealousy was creeping into his heart, although he did all he could to shut it out. There it was, however, and had taken possession.
Annie took a wicked delight in his misery. She saw what was the matter with him.
"Lanky Tim said I was as sweet as honey."
"Blast Lanky!" said Alec, scowling.
"You can't brag like Lanky Tim!" retorted Annie.
"No, I give him best at that! Dang him, if I don't give him pepper before I go to bed this night."
"Or mustard," said Annie.
"He may need a poultice."
Silence reigned for awhile, broken only by the loud tick of the clock on the mantelpiece and the drip of the honey. How long this state of things would have lasted no one knows. Just at this acute stage a loud scream was heard from the front of the homestead. A rushing of feet and banging of doors followed. Annie and Alec jumped up, made for the door, ran round the dwelling-house to the end of the verandah, and listened.