‘Call me Brummy, an’ keep yer dorg orf,’ replied the other, as he poured out a pannikin of tea. ‘I don’t fancy a big beast like yon a-breathin’ inter the back o’ a feller’s neck.’
And, indeed, Kálee’s attentions were marked. She sniffed around and around the new-comer, bristled all her hair up, and carried on a monologue which sounded unpleasant.
‘No,’ he resumed in answer to a question, as Treloar sent Kálee to her kennel. ‘I was never on this here field before. Down about the Lachlan’s my towri
. Everybody theer knows Brummy. I’m goin’ to do a bit of fossickin’ now I got this far. Ain’t a-thinkin’ o’ interferin’ wi’ you. Surfiss is my dart—roun’ about the old tailin’s and puddlers. Down below’s too risky in a rotten shop like this. I leaves that game to the young ’uns. An’’ (with a sly grin) ‘old Brum does as well as the best on ’em in the long run.’
Soon after this he went away and pitched a ragged fly further along the flat.
Next day, as we were having a smoke and a spell after rigging two new windlass standards, he came up to us, [80] ]and in a furtive sort of manner, began to try and discover the position of those claims which we had already prospected. Having no motive for concealment, we told him as well as we could, also pointing out most of them from where we sat.
He appeared quite pleased as we finished, and marched off with his old tin dish banging and rattling against the pick on his shoulder.
‘That old man,’ remarked Harry presently, ‘is a dangerous old man. Moreover, he is a liar.’
‘How do you know that?’ I asked.
‘The first,’ he replied, ‘I feel—as Kálee did. Now for the second count in the indictment. Did you not hear him tell us that this was his first visit to Yamnibar? Well, when he asked so carelessly if we had tried the big shaft over yonder—the one where you can see the remains of a horse-whim—and you said that we had not, a momentary gleam of satisfaction passed across his face. We’ll try that hole to-morrow morning. Luckily, our new standards are finished.’