“Isn’t this June? because, if it is, I reckon King Edward will be just about crowned.”
We all agreed it was June right enough, but nobody seemed sure of the date; we couldn’t even decide what day of the week it was. We had been “out bush” so long that we had got hopelessly mixed.
“Well,” said the Maluka, “we’re within a week of it, and that’s near enough for the Never-Never; so we’ll have a ‘play-about’ to celebrate it. Whoop! Hallo there, boys!” he called; “come and have a bigfellow play-about.” Then remembering that some bush blacks were camped at the river, he added, “Call up your pals, and I’ll shoot you a bullock for yourselves.”
With yells and screechings they obeyed, and were answered back by louder yells, as their bush friends— about twenty men, women and children—came screaming through the trees to accept the invitation.
Some hobbled the horses, some collected firewood, others dug a big, wide, shallow hole, and lit an enormous fire in it; lubras and piccaninnies ran to hunt for stones, which were to be made red hot in the fire; and everybody scampered and scuffled about, getting in each other’s way, laughing and shrieking, as they played practical jokes on one another. When they heard the shot that killed the bullock, they rushed off in a wild stampede to the stockyard.
In about ten minutes a ghastly procession came in sight, for the bullock had simply been hacked in pieces, skin and all; and every one, down to the tiniest piccaninny, was carrying a red, horrible-looking joint of meat.
Billy Muck, who was to be King himself some day, had the bullock’s head, and was amusing himself and everybody else by bucking and charging around, digging the horns into any one he could catch. Bett-Bett had the tail, and was swishing about with it among the lubras and piccaninnies, greatly to their delight. In fact, the future King and Queen were quite the life of the party. As the procession dodged and jumped about, it reminded me of a troop of clowns at a circus.
When it reached the fire, the meat was thrown on the ground, and while the dogs were helping themselves to the tit-bits, the ashes and stones were scraped out, and then the oven was ready for the joints.
A layer of hot stones was first thrown in, then some joints of meat, then more stones and more meat, layer after layer, till the hole was full and heaped up; on top of this were poured a few quarts of water, on top again was piled earth, and on top of everything else a great big fire was lit.
Then we went to our own camp to supper, and the blacks, making little fires every here and there, grilled small pieces of meat, to take the edge off their appetites; for it would be quite two hours before the joints were ready to eat.