“Then it’s settled. Can you get a couple of horses?”
“Yes, and a stunning black boy. The young scamp is awfully fond of me, and as a tracker he’s a regular out-and-outer. By Jove! won’t it be jolly—Redgrave and Waldron, the intrepid explorers! I feel as if we could go to Carpentaria.”
Jack smiled at the boy’s joyous readiness for the battle. Once he had been as wild in delight at feast or foray; but those days had gone.
“We must wait till we come back,” said he, gravely, “before we begin to arrange the fashion of the chaplet. If the black boy is plucky, and really wants to go with us, bring him by all means.”
Mr. Waldron, for whom remittances had lately arrived, spent the next day in getting in his horses, packing his effects, the half of which were condemned by Jack as being overweight, and questioning and lecturing the boy Doorival as to his special “call” for the enterprise. This sable waif was not the particular property of any one, so he was permitted to risk his valueless life without remark or remonstrance. He had been captured in a somewhat indiscriminate reprisal upon a wild tribe by a neighbour of Mr. Blockham’s, with his foot sticking out of a hollow log, in which, like a dingo puppy, he had instinctively hidden. Dragged forth by that member, he had been chained up till he grew tame, and well flogged from time to time till further “civilized.” After a few years of this stern training he had become sufficiently civilized to run away, and had arrived at Outer Back Mullah some months since, a shade more than half dead with fear and thirst. Travelling through hostile country, where his kidney fat wouldn’t have been worth an hour’s purchase after discovery by his countrymen, he had had necessarily but little leisure and less refreshment. Guy Waldron had taken him in hand as he would a bull-terrier pup, and, finding him game and sharp, had adopted him as personal retainer. On the third morning after the treaty, therefore, Doorival appeared on an elderly but well-conditioned screw, leading a pack-horse, and showing in his roving black eyes and gleaming teeth the strongest satisfaction at his promotion.
Mr. Blockham did by no means disguise his sentiments when he bade farewell to his quondam pupil and his adventurous guest.
“Well, Waldron, good-bye. I wish you both luck, I’m sure; but I’m blest if I don’t believe a warrigal will be picking some of your bones before this day six months. I’ve no opinion of exploring; I don’t believe in running after new country; let other fellows, if they’re fools enough, do all that bullocking. Wise men buy their work afterwards—and cheap enough too. I didn’t take up Outer Back Mullah; quite the contrary. I gave a chap two hundred pounds for it, and where’s he now?”
“Somebody must find the runs,” said Guy, “and a good run, with permanent water, or say a dozen or twenty blocks, are worth more than two hundred or two thousand pounds either.”
“That’s all very well,” returned the cynical senior; “but how do you know there’s any country where you’re going, let alone water? Besides, excuse me, sir, but you’re a-goin’ with a man that’s been unlucky, by his own word, with everything he’s touched before. I don’t believe in a man as is unlucky. I’ve seen a deal of life, and I never go in with one of that sort; not if I know it. No offence to you, sir.” This to Jack. “You can’t help it, I know. As for you, you young black bilber, what are you grinnin’ and lookin’ so pleased at? You’ll wish old Driver was a lickin’ ye with the dog-chain again, when some of them myalls gets round ye a little before daylight.”
The little expedition set forth, maugre the boding utterances of Mr. Blockham. The equipment was not costly, but it was sufficient; and two of the party at least had a “letter of credit” good for all the drafts which they were likely to draw upon it for some time to come.