Day by day the grass grew and bourgeoned and clothed the flats with a meadow-like growth akin to that of his native country. None of this amazing crop, however, was used except by the flocks of travelling sheep returning strong and well-doing to their long-abandoned homes. These passing hosts made so little impression upon the wonderfully rapid growth that, as Mr. Banks averred, ‘you could not see where they had been.’ The station cattle, and even the small flock of sheep were ‘well out back,’ and, presumably, were content to leave the ‘frontage’ as a reserve for summer needs.
Concurrently with this plenty and profusion, in which every head of the Rainbar stock revelled, from Mr. Levison’s ‘BI,’ whose skin now shone with recovered condition, and who snorted and kicked up his heels as he galloped into the yard with the working horses, to the most dejected weaner of the Freeman ‘crawlers,’ came strangely exciting news of the wondrous discovery of gold in Victoria, and the rapid rise in the price of meat.
Fat stock were higher and higher in each succeeding market, until the previously unknown and, as the democratic newspapers said, unjustifiable and improper price of ten pounds per head for fat cattle was reached, with a corresponding advance for sheep. As this astounding but by no means dismaying intelligence was conveyed to Mr. Neuchamp in the hastily-torn-open newspaper which he was glancing at outside, just as Jack Windsor had directed his attention to the gambols of ‘BI,’ who, with arched neck and perfect outline, fully justified Mr. Levison’s encomium upon his shape, that gentleman’s prophecy as to the enhanced value of Rainbar reaching twenty thousand pounds when ‘BI’ kicked up his heels seemed likely to be fulfilled to the letter.
Mr. Windsor, in his enthusiasm concerning the condition of the horse left in his charge, and that of the stud generally, had for the moment omitted to open an unpretending missive delivered by the same post which lay in his hand. As Ernest turned to walk towards the house he was stopped by the sound of a deep and bitter curse, most infrequent now upon the lips of his much altered follower.
[CHAPTER XXVIII]
As Mr. Neuchamp turned, he saw an expression so fell and deadly upon Jack’s changed face that he instinctively recalled the day when he first stood before him with levelled weapon and the same stern brow.
‘What is the matter, John?’ said Ernest kindly. ‘Any had news?’
‘Bad enough,’ said the man gloomily. ‘Never mind me, sir, for a minute or two. I’ll come to the house, and tell you all about it directly I’ve saddled Ben Bolt.’
Then, repressing with an effort all trace of previous emotion, and permitting his features to regain their usual expression, he proceeded to catch and lead to the stable that determined animal, whose spirit had by no means been permanently softened by adversity, as was exhibited by his snorting and trembling as usual when the rein was passed over his neck and the bridle put on. Having done this, Mr. Windsor carefully saddled up, and shortly afterwards appearing in his best suit of clothes, strapped a small roll to the saddle, and rode quietly up to the verandah of the cottage.