An Outback Marriage Banjo Paterson (philippa perry book .txt) 📖

his challenge to run, jump, dance, or fight anybody in the district, Gordon threw the lead-bag, weighing about six pounds, full in Red Mick’s face.

“There’s your lead, you thief!” he said. “Dance on that!”

Red Mick staggered back a pace or two, picked up an empty bottle from the ground, and made a dash at Gordon. The latter let out a vicious drive with his left that caught Mick under the ear and sent him down like a bullock. In a second the whole crowd surged together in one confused melée, everybody hitting at everybody amid a Babel of shouts and curses. The combat swayed out on to the racecourse, where half a dozen men fell over the ropes and pulled as many more down with them, and those that were down fought on the ground, while the others walked on them and fought over their heads. Carew, who was quite in his element, hit every head he saw, and knocked his knuckles to pieces on Black Andy Kelly’s teeth. The fight he put up, and the terrific force of his hitting, are traditions among the mountain men to this day. Charlie Gordon was simply mad with the lust of fighting, and was locked in a death-grip with Red Mick; they swayed and struggled on the ground, while the crowd punched at them indiscriminately. In the middle of all this business, the two ladies and Alick, the eldest of the children, had started Gentle Annie for home, straight down the centre of the course. The big mare, hearing the yelling, and recognising that she was once more on a racetrack, suddenly caught hold of the bit, and came sweeping up the straight full-stretch, her great legs flying to and fro like pistons. Alick, who was sitting bodkin between the ladies, simply remarked, “Let her head go!” as she went thundering into the crowd, hurling Doyles and Donohoes into the air, trampling Kellys under foot⁠—and so out the other side, and away at a 2.30 gait for at least half a mile before the terrified girls could pull her up, and come back to see what damage had been done.

That ended the fight. The course was covered with wounded and disabled men. Some had been struck by the mare’s hoofs; others had been run over by the wheels; and a great demand for whisky set in, under cover of which Gordon and Carew retired to the four-in-hand.

No one was seriously hurt, except “Omadhaun” Doyle, who had been struck on the head by the big mare’s hoof. He lay very still, breathing stertorously, and Jerry the Swell took the trouble to come over to the four-in-hand, and inform them that he thought “Omadhaun” had got percussion of the brain, and that things looked very “omnibus” for him. However, as soon as he could swallow whisky he was pronounced out of danger, and the Kuryong party was allowed to depart in peace for home, glad enough to get away. But the two girls were afraid to drive the big mare, as she was thoroughly roused after her dash in among the Doyles and Donohoes, and was inclined to show a lot of temper. A hurried consultation was held, with the result that Ellen Harriott and Alick were received into the four-in-hand, while Hugh was entrusted with the task of driving his employer home in the sulky.

Now, a sulky is a vehicle built to accommodate two people only, and those two people have to sit fairly close together. For a few miles they spun along in silence, Hugh being well occupied with steadying the mare. From time to time he looked out of the corner of his eye at his companion; she looked steadily, almost stolidly, in front of her. Then she began to tap on the floor of the sulky with her foot. At last she turned on him.

“Well, we didn’t win,” she said. “I suppose you are glad.”

“Why should I be glad, Miss Grant?”

“Oh! you said we oughn’t to go and race among those people. And you were right. It served them just right that the mare ran over them. I hope that none of them are going to die.”

“They wouldn’t be much missed,” said Hugh wearily. “They have started stealing the sheep again.”

“Can’t you catch them?” she said, with pretended asperity. “If you went out and hid in a fallen tree, don’t you think you could catch them?”

Hugh looked at her to see if she were in earnest, but she looked straight in front again and said nothing, still keeping up the slight tapping of her foot. He flushed a little, and spoke very quietly.

“I think I’ll have to resign from your employment, Miss Grant. I don’t care about stopping any longer; and I will go out back and take up one of those twenty-thousand-acre leases in Queensland. You might put Poss or Binjie on in my place. They would be glad of a billet, and they might catch Red Mick for you.”

“Do you really want to go?” she said, looking straight at him for the first time. “Why do you want to go?”

“Why?” he burst out. “Because I can’t bear being with you and near you all day long, when I care for you, and you don’t care for me. I can’t eat, or sleep, or rest here now, and it’s time I was away. You might give me a good character as a station-manager,” he went on grimly, “even though I can’t catch Red Mick for you. I’ll get you to make out my cheque, and then I’ll be off up North.”

She was looking down now. The sun had gone, and the stars were peeping out, and in the dusk he could catch no glimpse of her face. There was silence for a few moments, then he went on talking, half to himself. “It’s best for me, anyhow. It’s time I made a start for myself. I couldn’t stay on here as manager all my life.”

Then she spoke, very low