Читать книгу Gentlemen at Gyang Gyang - Miles Franklin - Страница 18

Table of Contents

Next forenoon three men came and were drafted out to Beardy, Peter, and the Dude. The whole turn-out was on the way to the fray at the first streak of day and the men returned each night at dark tired and dirty, reeking of the sheep, and with dogs footsore from the burnt tussocks. They ate with the Cook, saw to the necessary chores, and turned in without any social recreation.

"You just wait till we get past this spin, Miss Gaylord, and I'll teach you to ride so that you can get about, and it won't be so dull for you," said Burberry.

"As soon as we can take a breather, I'll show you the country in my car," offered Spires.

"I don't care much for cars: they whiz past all the pretty bits, and I just love to look and look."

Spires accompanied Burberry to the Whiskey Plains flocks and Burberry's golden opinions of his assistant's efficiency reverberated through the camp. Spires took fat satisfaction in hearing Burberry sound his praises. It was good that a girl with such a sheen on her hair should know what a dog he was. And he was earning twenty-five bob a day and his tucker, and a comfortable roof over him, and Peter's new bed under him, and safely hidden from pressing devils of Sydney. Things were none so droughty for Ced Spires.

Bernice's persistent unawareness of him was provoking to Spires and reassuring to Black Peter. Spires sought her attention. Peter continually thought about the immunity that a hundred pounds might purchase. Bernice's meek deportment, her silent self-effacement, added to her old-fashioned tresses, showed Peter a lamb endangered by a wolf. He was away off the bull's-eye. That demure, reserved exterior hid character and experience quite capable of exposing Spires as a crude galliard, valiant only with barmaids and bush servant-girls.

Peter grew so that he could look at her and make sure that her hair was a remarkable tint and not going grey. He liked to watch her talking to Burberry, whose winning manner could sometimes stir her to a smile, when Peter saw that her teeth had the prettiest little points and a pearly gleam like her eyebrows. The responsibility for her, as well as everything else, had devolved upon Peter when Labosseer was not in camp, so he lingered behind the others one morning and remarked, "I hope you are not lonely, Miss Gaylord. It's unfortunate that Mr Labosseer had to clear out just as you came. I have an old horse that is safe for a beginner and you can have a go on him as soon as I find a minute."

"Are you sure he wouldn't throw me off? Can I pet this one?" she asked, to detain him a minute or two because of the colour of his eyes.