He then told us in confidence that a little Debbil-debbil “sat down” inside the telegraph wire, and ran messages “quickfellow,” from one telegraph station to another. “Me savey,” he said wisely; “me bin hear him talk-talk longa Daly Waters.” Then, looking gravely round, he added: “Him bite alright, that one little fellow Debbil-debbil.”
I laughed at this, and the old men giggled nervously, for we all knew that he had done what nearly every nigger has done—he had climbed up a telegraph pole to break off a piece of wire for a spear, and had found out that the Debbil-debbil could bite when he got an electric shock! He said it didn’t bite the white man because he was its master. The very fiercest dog never bites his master, you know!
Charlie knew all about that telegraph line. It was really a fence to keep the kangaroos in. That was why it was so high—too high for them to jump over. Unfortunately, the white man used up all the wire he had for the two top rails, and couldn’t finish it. When the little Debbil-debbil “jumped in,” he made him run messages “quickfellow” for him.
“My word, whitefellow plenty savey,” said Jimmy.
Billy Muck agreed with him, but said he was a “big-fellow fool” when he rounded up a big mob of cattle, and worked hard day and night only to brand them and let them go again. If Billy owned cattle he would kill them all and invite his friends to the feast. Somehow as I sat looking at the generous, honest, simple, unspoiled, blackfellow—absolutely free from vice or care—I felt that perhaps he was right, and the white man is a “bigfellow fool,” after all.
Charlie didn’t like Billy’s getting so much attention, and offered to count his toes, but I was tired of Charlie and his civilized ways, so called Bett-Bett and went home.
Bett-Bett was fascinated with Tonald and asked all sorts of questions about white piccaninnies. Were they born white? Did they wear clothes? and so on.
To amuse her, I made a rag doll, and painted a face on it, and dressed it like a baby. She looked at it for a long while, feeling it carefully all over, then she said with a chuckle—
“Him gammon piccaninny I think, Missus!”
All the first day she carried it in her arms, and Charlie told great tales of “gammon piccaninnies” that broke if they fell down.