Then comes clothing of all kinds—hats, shirts, jackets, boots, shoes, &c. Then tools and cooking utensils; and in a private cupboard, quite away in a corner, the ammunition.
It is unnecessary to add that harness and horse-shoes found a place in this store, or that a desk stood in one corner where account-books were kept, for the men did not invariably pay down on the nail.
I think it said a good deal for Sarah's courage that she came right away down into the Bush with her "little man," and took charge of the cooking department on the station, when it was little, if any, better than simply a camp, with waggons for bedrooms, and a morsel of canvas for gentility's sake.
But please to pop your head inside the kitchen, now that the dwelling-house has been up for some little time. Before you reach the door you will have to do a bit of stepping, for outside nothing is tidied up as yet. Heaps of chips, heaps of stones and sticks and builders' rubbish, are everywhere. Even when you get inside there is a new smell—a limy odour—to greet you in the passage, but in the kitchen itself all is order and neatness. A huge dresser stands against the wall just under the window. The legs of it are a bit rough to be sure, but nobody here is likely to be hypercritical; and when the dinner-hour arrives, instead of the vegetables, meat, and odds-and-ends that now stand thereon, plates, and even knives and forks, will be neatly placed in a row, and Sarah herself, her cooking apron replaced by a neater and nattier one, will take the head of the table, one of the boys will say a shy kind of grace, and the meal will go merrily on.
On a shelf, slightly raised above the floor, stand rows of clean saucepans, stewpans, and a big, family-looking business of a frying-pan; and on the wall hang bright, shining dish-covers, and a couple of racks and shelves laden with delf.
A good fire of logs burns on the low hearth, and there, among ashes pulled on one side for the purpose, a genuine "damper" is baking, while from a movable "sway" depends a chain and crook, on which latter hangs a pot. This contains corned beef—very well, call it salt if you please. Anyhow, when Sarah lifts the lid to stick a fork into the boiling mess an odour escapes and pervades the kitchen quite appetizing enough to make the teeth of a Bushman water, if he had done anything like a morning's work. There is another pot close by the fire, and in this sweet potatoes are boiling.
It is a warm spring day, and the big window is open to admit the air, else poor Sarah would be feeling rather uncomfortable.
What is "damper"? It is simply a huge, thick cake or loaf, made from extremely well-kneaded dough, and baked in the hot ashes of the hearth. Like making good oat cakes, before a person can manufacture a "damper" properly, he must be in a measure to the manner born. There is a deal in the mixing of the dough, and much in the method of firing, and, after all, some people do not care for the article at all, most useful and handy and even edible though it be. But I daresay there are individuals to be found in the world who would turn up their noses at good oat cake. Ah, well, it is really surprising what the air of the Australian Bush does in the way of increasing one's appetite and destroying fastidiousness.
But it is near the dinner-hour, and right nimbly Sarah serves it up; and she has just time to lave her face and hands, and change her apron, when in comes Bob, followed by Archie and Harry. Before he sits down Bob catches hold of Sarah by both hands, and looks admiringly into her face, and ends by giving her rosy cheek a kiss, which resounds through the kitchen rafters like the sound of a cattle-man's whip.
"I declare, Sarah lass," he says heartily, "you are getting prettier and prettier every day. Now at this very moment your lips and cheeks are as red as peonies, and your eyes sparkle as brightly as a young kangaroo's; and if any man a stone heavier than myself will make bold to say that I did wrong to marry you on a week's courtship, I'll kick him over the river and across the creek. 'For what we are about to receive, the Lord make us truly thankful. Amen.' Sit in, boys, and fire away. This beef is delightful. I like to see the red juice following the knife; and the sweet potatoes taste well, if they don't look pretty. What, Sarah, too much done? Not a bit o' them."