The Dead Finishers all drank ‘rum straight,’ and about two gallons was their respective allowance. That safely stowed away, they took their long whips out of the corner of the bar, called their rough cattle-dogs, lying beside them, and made off to the wilderness again for another fight with fire and axe against the stubborn forest, and to raise corn enough for the next trip to market.
[Illustration: But presently there was a report, a cloud of smoke, and a flash out of the little window. ([Page 68].)]
That half-yearly or so excursion was their one treat, such as it was; and the toiling, hard-featured women at home, who never got away, acquiesced tacitly in the liquid wind-up of it. They never looked for any money on their men’s return. What was the good of money at [65] ]Dead Finish? No wonder the people laughed when the Inspector talked to them of ‘school fees.’
At last Mr Cruppy drifted into the ‘Bushman’s Home’ in search of information. Could Mr Duffy tell him how to get to a place called Dead Finish? No; Mr Duffy was sorry, but he really couldn’t. All he knew about it was that it was up in the mountains, and a rough, long road to travel. The new teacher, was he? Well, he was pleased to hear it, but opined that he’d find some pretty hard cases amongst the kids up there. Did he know Mr Brown at Dead Finish? Yes, he thought he did, and a very strong cup of tea he was. Going to stay there, was he? Well, he hoped that Mr Brown would make him comfortable. But, somehow, he was doubtful. As to getting there, he would have to trust to Providence. After a little more talk, however, Mr Cruppy discovered that Providence, in this case, meant the sum of £4 sterling, for which the publican expressed his willingness to do his best to find the Dead Finish.
They were four days on the road, got bogged twice, capsized twice, and broke the pole of the buggy before they found Brown, who received them with more surprise than cordiality. Foreseeing ostracism again, he wished to go back from his agreement, and was surly to a degree.
He said he should get his head caved in. If no one else did it, ‘Brombee’ O’Brien would. A week’s payment in advance mollified him somewhat. But, if Mr Cruppy had not been an orphan, friendless, and on his first appointment, he would have returned with [66] ]Mr Duffy, who, very much to his surprise, had by the time he reached home, fairly earned his money.
The teacher’s bedroom was a bark lean-to; his bed sacks stuffed with corn husks—and cobs. The food was hominy and pork, washed down with coffee made from corn roasted and ground. He ventured to remark that the accommodation was rough.
‘It are,’ replied Mr Brown. ‘We’s rough. Take it or leave it. We niver arst fer no schoolin’. I’ll get stoushed over this job yet. Brombee’s got it in for me. So’s the Simmses, an’ all the rest ov ’em.’