Читать книгу Landtakers: The Story of an Epoch - Brian Penton - Страница 14

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Suddenly the yard seemed to have awakened. The bullocks padded about in the dust, chains rattled, a door slammed, the watchman came out of his box and grunted at Mickey, then went round his fires throwing on fresh wood. The flames leapt up, tarnishing for an instant the yellow light in the hut.

Cabell glared at the table, then reached over abruptly and pushed the knife away.

"Listen," McGovern began again, reseating himself and setting his back against the table. "I'll tell you a yarn about Joe. It was down in the barracks at Moreton Bay. There was an overseer, an Irish sod named Geogarty, that used to 'feed pigs'. Don't know what that is? It's taking some poor sod's tucker and feeding him only the offal and husks. He's some lag the rest of the gang's got a nark on, so he can't split to the Cove because nobody'll stand by him, and afterwards the overseer'll just kick his stuffing out. All he can do is sit quiet and hope for a change before he starves. Geogarty picked on a poor devil called Coyle, the same that's down in the hut now. Coyle and Gursey was thick at the time, but Gursey was expecting word of his Ticket any day, so he says nothing. But he shares his tucker with Coyle and just looks at Geogarty as much as to say 'You wait till I get out. Your damper'll be dough.' Well, this Geogarty he's a lag himself, and he doesn't want to lose a soft crib, so he thinks to himself, 'Get out and split on me, will you? We'll see about that, me hearty,' and he begins putting the boot into Joe with this and with that, enough to make a saint boil in the gall. But Joe's got patience. He's not the same as other lags at all. The System soon breaks them up, but Joe it just sets on fire and leaves him as hard as brick.

"Just to show you. One day he's working on the roads when he opens up a bull-ant nest. He gets out of the hole quick, but Geogarty sends him back. Three times he gets out and three times Geogarty sends him back. The third time he stays and the ants crawl all over him, hundreds of them--and you know what one nip from a bull-ant is. Does Joe say a word? Not him. He still goes round with his eyes on the ground and his gob tight as a corpse's, for fear some word might slip out and lose him his Ticket. But when he does look at Geogarty that sod knows his number's up and he'll be back in the gang himself unless he can think of something soon.

"Then one day he gets a notion. There's a terrible Nancy English officer there, a duke or something, and Geogarty knows Joe's not nuts on lifting his lid to anyone, specially to this cove, who spends his time going the rounds and prodding the lags with a bit of a cane he had. So Geogarty starts sending Joe on messages wherever this Lord Muck is. And when Joe tries to sneak past without lifting his lid, Lord Muck he pulls him up. 'Haw, haw, what's this I see, you scum?' says he. 'Don't you know you've got to raise your hat when you pass me, you gallows-rat?' And forthwith he sits himself down and makes Joe walk up and down in front of him fifty times, raising his hat each time.

"Well, Joe goes back very slow to the gang, and on the way he picks up a gibber and puts it in his pocket. 'Ho, ho,' says Geogarty when he sees from Joe's face that his temper's coming up at last, 'you don't look all that pleased, Joe.' 'No,' says Joe, 'I just found out I've got to leave you and it makes me sad.' 'What, you got your Ticket already?' 'No,' shouts Joe, 'I've got yours,' and with that he whips out the gibber and lands it square between Geogarty's eyes, laying him out flat as a pancake. 'Now, boys,' he says, after he's made sure he hasn't killed the sod, 'I'm making for the bush. Who'll come with me?' But the only one that would go was that crazy loon Red."

McGovern glanced into the yard and rubbed his chin. "Hmn," he muttered. "Yes. What happened then? Well, he was out for a year. Went up country where no white man's never been before nor since. Nearly done for once or twice--thirst, starvation, myalls. Killed a black once and ate him. Flesh the colour of them pretty flowers you see down the scrub--kind of purply blue. Then a tribe takes them in and they could've stayed for the rest of their days, but Joe begins to think--he's got a head on him--and he thinks this is just like being in jail; so as there's only one way of getting free, he sets out with Red, crosses the Divide about five hundred miles up the coast, comes down through all that bush where they're just beginning to push out now, in his bare feet and without any gun or anything, and gives himself and Red up at Moreton Bay, after trekking close on a thousand miles. And after that what d'you think they done to him? They give him three hundred on the bare back, and for three months after he couldn't see, feel or walk." He shook his head. "Poor Joe!"

Cabell sat with his head in his hands, staring gloomily at the table. As the story progressed he had become more and more uneasy, had walked round the table, then into the far corner of the room as though he did not wish to listen, but had returned to the bench at last.

McGovern smoked in silence, watching him. After a while he leant over and, peering closely into Cabell's face, said, "Now you see the kind of man he is. Just suppose you was to drop him the wink that you're going to take him down to Moreton Bay with the darbies on, eh?"

Cabell turned his head. Several seconds passed before he retorted, indignantly, "I'll do nothing of the kind."

McGovern patted his knee. "Don't worry your soft heart about it. He won't be flogged. He'll see to that." He nodded slowly with one eye closed.

"You tell me this?" Cabell cried. "Now I will tell him. I certainly will."

"Ah, I knew you would. All I got to do then is send you off to Moreton Bay with him, you let him escape, he comes back to kill me--or get Red to kill me--and. . . ." He smiled.

Cabell frowned, sensing vaguely the double meaning behind all McGovern had been saying. "What d'you mean? Why would I let him escape?"

"Why?" McGovern nudged him. "Because you want to go looking for those skins without anybody looking for you."

Cabell drew away. "I don't know what you're driving at," he said, then jumped up. "I'm going to clear out of this place. I--" He stopped, beat angrily at a mosquito on his cheek, and blurted out "One day you will get murdered!"

"Ah!" McGovern dropped his hands on his knees with a long sigh of satisfaction.

But Cabell had stiffened, as though his own words had vouchsafed him some utterly unexpected and outrageous revelation.

The flame of the lamp, unwavering for an instant, twinkled on the points of McGovern's suddenly intent eyes.