In Quest of Gold; Or, Under the Whanga Falls

by Alfred St. Johnston

The disappointment was all the keener as they had looked forward with such certainty to finding water there. Still they were in no great straits for it at present, although very thirsty and parched.

"What shall we do? Push on to the next camp?" said George.

"Oh, no, we must put up with it; we can manage to do without drink for a long time yet, and the horses must rest. We must not knock them up whatever else we do."

"All right, I can manage if you can, old fellow. I was thinking of Como more than myself," said the boy, looking down at his dog, who was thrusting his dry, hot nose into his master's hand as though to tell him how much he suffered. "Never mind, Como, old boy, you shall have as much to drink as you like tonight."

So without any useless grumblings they threw themselves down in the shade and kept themselves as quiet and still as the plague of flies would let them. Just then Alec noticed that Prince Tom had not unloaded the pack-horse which had been given into his charge, though he had hobbled her and turned her loose. This was a most absurd and annoying thing to do, as not only was the mare greatly impeded in her feeding, but the pack upon her back was every moment threatened with destruction amongst the rocks and boughs that overhung the sides of the gully. Alec, whose temper was always rather a quick and hasty one, had been a good deal ruffled that day by one or two little signs of Prince Tom's desire to shirk his share of the work, and the heat, and the flies, and the want of water, too, had worried him considerably, so that it is not to be wondered at that he was angry. He jumped up hastily when he saw how Prince Tom had neglected Polly, and caught the skulking fellow—who was leaning against a tree close to him eating a lump of damper—a sounding box on the ears. He was very angry, and the black could see it.

"What for you leave um load on um yarroman?" said Alec, advancing towards him as though he would repeat the blow.

Prince Tom danced and leaped backwards with surprising agility to get out of his way.

"Black fellow werry tired," he answered, sulkily. "Bail water bong, bail work" (no water, no work). "White fellow eat an' drinkee all um day. White fellow strong. You go take pack off yarroman."

Alec could hardly help laughing at the impudence of the fellow making such an absurd statement, but he sternly bade him go and unload the horse, and Prince Tom shuffled off and did it. Already several times since they had left Wandaroo Alec had thought that Tom had shown signs of insubordination and disobedience, whilst Murri, on the contrary, cheerfully obeyed their bidding, and did everything that he could to assist them. The fact that Prince Tom was so much less to be trusted than Murri may be accounted for by the fact that Tom was a partly civilised black, having lived about Wandaroo and other stations for some years, whilst Murri had not very long been drafted into the native camp on the station from the wild myall part of his tribe, which hunted in the immediate neighbourhood of Wandaroo.

All that afternoon, whilst they rested thirstily by the dried-up native well, Tom relieved his anger by singing corroborree songs to himself in a low voice, but with flashing eyes and an excited manner. An Australian savage comforts himself with these wild chants at all times of trouble or anger, and as they are short, and are repeated over and over again, perhaps hundreds of times, and as the tune is but a few harsh notes strung together, the effect upon a listener, who is not also a native Australian, becomes exasperating in the extreme.