Five Little Bush Girls

by E. Lee Ryan

Then he lit his pipe and drove on and didn’t speak to them again till they reached the river; but the young rascals were whispering and giggling together long before then—up to some fresh roguery.

Such a gay crowd set to work to pitch the tents and swing the hammocks, and soon the fresh smell of cut timber and bruised leaves filled the air, while laughter and merry voices were heard on every side.

The hammocks were mostly bags slung up with wire, and in some cases sheets of wire-netting, with a rug thrown over them. But they swung among the leafy branches under the fresh-smelling leaves, and there were never better beds in the world! It was delightful to wake in the early morning under a canopy of leaves, and see the sun peeping forth, transforming the dew-tipped leaves and grass and gossamer spider-webs into glistening jewel-like splendour. To hear the birds chirping and twittering along the river, or watch them plunge into the stream. To hear the flap of the fish as they sprang out of the water, and then to hear the fire crackling merrily. At times like this they all wished they were gipsies.

Then breakfast would come, with fish fresh from the river and potatoes cooked in their jackets, and there was nothing but goodwill and merriment from morning to night.

They would have tea as the evening shadows were creeping along the river, and hear the birds fluttering and cooing among the branches, or far along the river strange calls and chirps would be heard from strange wild bush birds. Then the merry jackasses would give forth their jolly, rollicking laugh, and wake up all the echoes; and the children would join with them, till there was perfect pandemonium. And by-and-bye a great golden moon would swing in the sky, lighting up the scene into fairy-like splendour, making the tents stand out whitely and transforming the broad stretch of water into a golden sheen. This was the time for stories, and they would gather round the camp fires and listen while the “grown-ups” talked; and sometimes they would declare that they could see gnomes and fairies high among the glistening gum leaves, and even hear them chattering.

One night they found Keith and Kossie, armed with two little tomahawks, just about to try and climb a great gum that had gnarled and knotted branches, and they declared they were going up to give the gnomes the fright of their lives.

“We wadn’t goin’ to hurt ’em; we was only goin’ to have some fun,” they answered when Miss Gibson protested with them.

“When I grow up I’ll settle some of dem old gnomes,” said Keith, shaping up to fight, “and I’m goin’ to find de ole wolf dat nearly killed Red Riding Hood and shoot him,” he ended up, tragically.

“Oh, but the woodmen shot him!” cried Doris.

“Well, den I’ll kill his brudder,” declared Keith.