FullReads

*****

One day–I was on my way home with the team that day–Annie Spicer came running up the creek in terrible trouble.

‘Oh, Mrs Wilson! something terribl’s happened at home! A trooper’ (mounted policeman–they called them ‘mounted troopers’ out there), ‘a trooper’s come and took Billy!’ Billy was the eldest son at home.

‘What?’

‘It’s true, Mrs Wilson.’

‘What for? What did the policeman say?’

‘He–he–he said, “I–I’m very sorry, Mrs Spicer; but–I–I want William.”‘

It turned out that William was wanted on account of a horse missed from Wall’s station and sold down-country.

‘An’ mother took on awful,’ sobbed Annie; ‘an’ now she’ll only sit stock-still an’ stare in front of her, and won’t take no notice of any of us. Oh! it’s awful, Mrs Wilson. The policeman said he’d tell Aunt Emma’ (Mrs Spicer’s sister at Cobborah), ‘and send her out. But I had to come to you, an’ I’ve run all the way.’

James put the horse to the cart and drove Mary down.

Mary told me all about it when I came home.

‘I found her just as Annie said; but she broke down and cried in my arms. Oh, Joe! it was awful! She didn’t cry like a woman. I heard a man at Haviland cry at his brother’s funeral, and it was just like that. She came round a bit after a while. Her sister’s with her now…. Oh, Joe! you must take me away from the Bush.’

Later on Mary said–

‘How the oaks are sighing to-night, Joe!’

*****

Next morning I rode across to Wall’s station and tackled the old man; but he was a hard man, and wouldn’t listen to me–in fact, he ordered me off the station. I was a selector, and that was enough for him. But young Billy Wall rode after me.

‘Look here, Joe!’ he said, ‘it’s a blanky shame. All for the sake of a horse! And as if that poor devil of a woman hasn’t got enough to put up with already! I wouldn’t do it for twenty horses. I’LL tackle the boss, and if he won’t listen to me, I’ll walk off the run for the last time, if I have to carry my swag.’

Billy Wall managed it. The charge was withdrawn, and we got young Billy Spicer off up-country.

But poor Mrs Spicer was never the same after that. She seldom came up to our place unless Mary dragged her, so to speak; and then she would talk of nothing but her last trouble, till her visits were painful to look forward to.

‘If it only could have been kep’ quiet–for the sake of the other children; they are all I think of now. I tried to bring ’em all up decent, but I s’pose it was my fault, somehow. It’s the disgrace that’s killin’ me–I can’t bear it.’

I was at home one Sunday with Mary and a jolly Bush-girl named Maggie Charlsworth, who rode over sometimes from Wall’s station (I must tell you about her some other time; James was ‘shook after her’), and we got talkin’ about Mrs Spicer. Maggie was very warm about old Wall.

‘I expected Mrs Spicer up to-day,’ said Mary. ‘She seems better lately.’

‘Why!’ cried Maggie Charlsworth, ‘if that ain’t Annie coming running up along the creek. Something’s the matter!’

We all jumped up and ran out.

‘What is it, Annie?’ cried Mary.

‘Oh, Mrs Wilson! Mother’s asleep, and we can’t wake her!’

‘What?’

‘It’s–it’s the truth, Mrs Wilson.’

‘How long has she been asleep?’

‘Since lars’ night.’

‘My God!’ cried Mary, ‘SINCE LAST NIGHT?’

‘No, Mrs Wilson, not all the time; she woke wonst, about daylight this mornin’. She called me and said she didn’t feel well, and I’d have to manage the milkin’.’

‘Was that all she said?’

‘No. She said not to go for you; and she said to feed the pigs and calves; and she said to be sure and water them geraniums.’

Mary wanted to go, but I wouldn’t let her. James and I saddled our horses and rode down the creek.

*****

Mrs Spicer looked very little different from what she did when I last saw her alive. It was some time before we could believe that she was dead. But she was ‘past carin” right enough.