CHAPTER IV
A big man, with a broad face and yellow beard, came in. This was Max Hicsh, the mine manager, and sometime medical student of Göttingen.
"Vell, Mr. McKeel, how vas you now?" he said, in his bustling way. Seeing Lanky, breathing hard, on the sofa, he added, "Mine Gott! vat is dis?"
McKeel told him, in a few words, what had been done, and that he had successfully injected the ammonia.
"Dat is good, mine friend! dat is good. You haf safe his life."
"I thocht," said McKeel, "that it wad be mair satisfactory to hae a medical man here to gae the poor fallow every chance."
Max drew up his coat sleeves, turned back his shirt cuffs, gave a tug at his collar, put one hand over Lanky's heart and the other on his pulse. He wore a serious look, then a puzzled one: his lip curled, and a smile danced over his face.
"Heart goot; ferry goot! poolse goot; ferry goot!! preething goot; ferry goot!!!"
McKeel jumped up and skipped about, snapping his fingers. He was jubilant at the effect of the ammonia.
"What de ye think o' the heap-odermic injection o' ammonia noo, Daavid? I'll write to the Argus aboot this won'erfu' escape frae the grave, or the bottomless pit for that maiter. Lanky may tak' a thocht an' mend frae the error o' his ways after this meeracle."
"All right, father, all right!" said David.
"'A' richt, a' richt!' ye say. I should say it's a' richt! Here am I, fechtin' wi' the case, an' ye havena lifted a han' to help me. I'm thinkin', but for me, Death wad hae his dart or his scythe into him by noo, an' whar wad his soul be, I should like to ken?"
Max stood up, and began to laugh. "Donner und blitzen! I haf not look at de pite of the snake. Vare is him?"
"On the calf o' his left leg," said McKeel.
Max peered at the place for a few minutes.
"Dat is no more like de pite of a snake dan it is like de pite of a flea!"
"I tell ye," said McKeel, "it was a tiger-snake that bit him. Your remarks are clipped o' common sense."
"Mine friend, Mr. McKeel, I do not pelieve, I say, I do not pelieve he has been pitten at all!"
"What! Do you mean to tell me that he's no been bitten by a snake, when I ken better?"
"No, mine friend! He is dronk! dronk as a man who the fiddle plays."
"Drunk as a fiddler, you mean," said David.
"Ya! dronk as two fiddlers!"
"Ma sang! I hae a verra sma' opeenion o' the University o' Got-again, if that's a' ye ken aboot snake-bite!" said McKeel.
"Mine friend, he is what you call sham."
"Do you think a man would sham," said Mrs. Coonie indignantly, "when he is dying?"
"Mine goot friend, Mrs. Coonie, he has not grappled mit de King of Terrors yet. It's King Alcohol dat's got hold of him."
"Don't you tell me! I've lived in the bush, maid and wife, twenty years, and know snakebite. Besides, hasn't he settled his affairs—made his will, in fact, most sensibly, and left all he has to my Annie."
"She vill not haf a heavy boondle to carry; dat is what I say."
"Indeed! You know nothing about it. It turns out, as I always said, that he is a rich man in disguise, and fell in love with my daughter and wanted to marry her. Now he has left her all he has."
"How much?" said Max.
"Six hundred and forty acres of land, two houses in Melbourne, £15,000, besides other sums in the bank."
Max laughed loud and long, bursting out again and again. David joined in the fun, to the disgust of his father and the indignation of Mrs. Coonie. Annie wept bitterly, with compensations for her grief floating before her of untold wealth.
"Dis is goot fun," said Max; "goot fun! plain as blitzen. Lanky wanted to marry Annie. He pricks himself mit a pin, shams he has got a snake-pite up his legs, flams he is going to kick de pucket, makes his will, leaves £15,000, two houses, and six hundred and forty acres of land to her mit his great love. He vill recover. Oh yes! Annie vill marry him to-morrow. Do you all tvig?"
"For shame, man!" said Mrs. Coonie.
Annie shed floods of tears, and wrung her hands. McKeel glowered over his spectacles, darting fiery glances at Max from his ferret-like eyes.
"I tell ye, Max, ye are jist jealous o' the new cure for snake-bite. The honour an' glory of savin' his life is mine; for the poison was workin' in him like yeast when I tackled him. It was gallopin' through his veins, like a wild horse fleein' up the hills."
"Mine friend! if he had any poison in his insides, he must haf svallowed some of his own venom; or maybe it vas de brandy?"
"Hoot, toot! what's a spoonful' o' brandy here or there! Nae mair than a grain o' common sense in a hogshead o' wishy-washy Got-again University stuff!"
Lanky stretched himself, opened his eyes, yawned, and looked round in a dazed sort of way. All eyes were turned to him.
"Where am I?" said he; "I thought I was dead. Oh! I remember; I was bitten by a snake. I feel better. I think I'll get over it."
"Give God the thanks, Lanky!" said McKeel solemnly, "an' me, as the humble eenstrument."
"I'll never forget your kindness, Mr. McKeel, never!"
"I'll tak' a little brandy, jist to steady ma nerves after this excitin' nicht," said McKeel. He reached over for the bottle. "Losh! it's empty. It's as toom as a whistle!"
"Has he dronk de whole bottle?" Max asked.
"Every drap!" McKeel replied; "so, if he's drunk, nae wonder, but that does not dimeenish the vertues o' the ammonia."
Lanky staggered to his feet, and tottered to Annie. When he reached her his legs became entangled and gave way. He sank into a chair beside her. His mind and tongue were sober, but his legs were intoxicated.
"You are mine now, Annie! You said you loved me, and you promised to marry me."
"Yes, Tim," said Annie, with a simper.
"Then we'll get out o' this. When I'm in the open air, an' souse my head in a bucket of water, I'll be all right. That ammonia did the trick, Mr. McKeel!"
"I declare!" said Mr. McKeel, "the feelin's o' the patient is mair tae be relied on than a' the opeenions o' the doctors."
Lanky rose to his feet, supported by Mrs. Coonie and Annie. They went away, by the back door, to the kitchen, saying as they were going, "Thank you, Mr. McKeel."
"Weel, it's pleasant," said he, "to meet wi' thankfu' folks, no like some I could name, wha are no far aff but winna."
"Good-bye, Mr. McKeel," said Max; "I must be what you call toddling. You haf your opinion, I haf mine. You'll see all I haf said vill come true."
"Good-bye, Max," Mr. McKeel said. "But I say it was a genuine case of snake-bite, for I saw the patient frae the first, an' you didna; but thank ye a' the same for comin', though we'll differ aboot some things tae the end o' the chapter."
Max shook hands with Mrs. McKeel and David, and then went home.
In about an hour after this McKeel went to the kitchen to see how Lanky was getting on. He found him as sober as a judge. In the meantime he had soused his head in a bucket, and had drunk a pint of water.
"Ma sang!" said the old man, as he went to his bedroom, "that fallow had a near shave! But for me he wad be a corp!"
Lanky went to the men's hut, and Mrs. Coonie shared Annie's bed for the night.