The Pride of the Peacock (37 page)

”

Indeed! “

“Oh, most certainly. There’s a flash of fire in you. They named you Opal rightly … Opal Jessica. There’s no one who a knows more about opals than I do.”

“Naturally,” I mocked. , “Of all varieties,” he pointed out.

“I think perhaps you over-estimate your powers in some directions.”

“Don’t you believe it. All opals come within my province. y Particularly those which are in my collection.”

“What about Isa Bannock?2 ” What about her? ” ^ ” Do you see her as an opal ? “

That’s an interesting idea. ” ^ ” Of course I couldn’t hope to compare with her brilliance. ” y, He pressed my arm against his.

“You mustn’t underestimate (, yourself … or pretend to, must you ?” y “What a foolish conversation!” a “Yes, isn’t it… and on a Saturday night!”

fl Just ahead of us lay the calico tents looking weird in the y

firelight. Someone was playing on a fiddle the old tune of The Ash Grove’ and it made me think of home suddenly-the fields and lanes and the Dower House with Poor Jarman working on the flowerbeds, and Miriam and her curate, and I wondered whether Xavier had married Lady Clara yet.

Two children in gingham frocks were turning somersaults and they stood upright and bobbed curtsies as we passed by. Someone had joined the fiddler with a mouth organ and now I could smell the roasting pork.

Joss and I sat down on one side of a hillock on which grew dumps of mulga, and from this slight eminence we had a good view of the scene.

From the tent came the smell of food and excited voices.

They’re cooking in there,” said Joss.

“It’s safer inside. We don’t want to start a fire. God knows where that would end here. When they’ve eaten the fun will start. After the pork, there’ll be plum pudding. You should take some just to show you’re not too proud to join in.” He grinned at me.

“Don’t forget you’re going to be one of the family. You’ll have to follow our customs.”

Tou find this a pleasant one? “

“One of the bosses is expected to join in most Saturdays. We take turns. Ben used to go often. Then I’d go, or Ezra would. We have to show we are one of them. That’s very important. Here Jack’s as good as his master. Don’t forget it.”

“Yet it seems to me that there are some masters who think themselves highly superior.”

“Only because they are. A man commands respect for what he is out here.”

“Doesn’t he everywhere?”

“I mean he’s not superior just because he’ has had a better education or has money. He’s got to show himself as a man and then he’ll be accepted as such.”

“And if men rely on others to provide them with the means of earning a living they might think it advisable to show them some respect?”

They’d be fools not to. 8 “Your philosophy of life is worked out to give you all the advantages.”

“Now isn’t that the wise way?”

“You bring everything to your personal view.” , “It’s you who do that.

You brought me into this analysis. 8 1 shrugged my shoulders.

That’s right,” he went on, ‘a woman should always admit

when she’s beaten. “

“Beaten! I!”

; “Only in argument, of course. There’s a saying at Home:

I “A woman, a dog and a walnut tree The more you beat them the better they’ll be.” s < “Some arrogant man no doubt made that up. I’ve never heard of beating walnut trees and the thought of beating dogs I nauseates me. As for women, men who use physical violence ^ against them usually do so because they know they will be S beaten in verbal battles.”

“You do very well. I hope it doesn’t become a test between ” ‘ us. My strength, your brains. Oh dear, what a contrast! “

“We do seem to get involved in the most absurd bickering.”

I “It’s really due to your verbal agility.”

I “Now you’re mocking me.”

“And once again we’re forgetting we’re here to enjoy J Saturday night.”

I turned my attention to the scene before us. People were c crowding into the tent and some were coming out with slices of roast meat on bread which they were eating with great enjoyment. They sat about and talked together, shouting from ^ group to group and taking little notice of us seated on the hillock.

Children came out with trays on which were slabs of pudding and with which they were drinking what Joss told me was home-brewed ale.

a I was given a piece of the pudding which was like hot cake. Both Joss and I took it in our fingers and ate it. It was good, I found.

When the eating was over the revelry began. The two children whom we had seen turning somersaults darted about turning cartwheels. One man did some conjuring tricks. There were two violins and several mouth organs in the camp and they played the songs the people knew and everyone sang them. It was a moving scene there in the light of the campfire which glowed on the faces of men, women and children as they sang the old songs we knew so well. Always they were songs from Home which many of them must have learned before they left and others had picked up from those who had brought them across the sea.

There was one song which they sang with more feeling than any other and that was The Miner’s Dream of Home’. This told the story of how the miner fell asleep and dreamed. Everyone joined in. I remember some of the words and I think I shall never forget them:

I saw the old homestead, the faces l lovea, I saw England’s valleys and hills. I listened with joy As I did when a boy To the sound of the old village bells. The moon was shining brightly It was a night that would banish all sin For the bells were ringing the Old Year out And the New Year in.

As the song finished there was a deep silence in the company. They were in no mood to sing more for a while. They wanted to think of the people they had left at home; perhaps some of them longed to return and knew they never would.

The silence was broken by the sound of horse’s hoofs and a man came riding up. The tension was relaxed. He cried: “Is Mr. Madden here? I must see Mr. Madden.8 Joss rose and went over to the rider who was surrounded by a group of people.

“Oh, Mr. Madden, sir.” I heard him say, “Mrs. Bannock has sent me to find you. She says to tell you, sir, that Mr. Bannock has not been home all last night and not through the day and now his horse has come back without him. She’s worried and says would you go over to the homestead.”

I heard Joss say: “Go back at once, Tim. Tell her I’m coming over right away. like as not I’ll be there before you.”

He walked off and left me standing there. I felt sick with rage and anger. She only had to send for him and he forgot my existence. Then I thought of Ezra and was ashamed. What could have happened to him? I made my way to the blacksmith where Wattle was patiently waiting for me. Someone was already there. It was Jimson.

“I’m to take you back to Peacocks, Mr. Madden says,” he told me.

Thank you, jim son I answered.

“Lets go.1 So I rode back to Peacocks with Jimson, all my pleasure in the evening departed and a terrible anxiety about Ezra beginning to disturb me.

I went to my room and took off my riding habit, put on my trousseau dressing-gown and loosened my hair.

I sat up waiting. It was midnight when Joss returned. He came straight to my room as I had hoped he would.

jim son brought you home all right? ” he said.

Yes. What of Ezra? “

ti^ i. ^ in-u auu iwn. cu very anxious. I can’t think what’s happened.

He’s missing. I don’t like it. There must have been some accident. His horse coming back without him. I’ll send out search parties tomorrow.

Isa will let me know if he turns up. “

“You’ve said so often that people can get lost in the Bush,” I said.

“Not a man like Ezra. He could only have been going between the homestead and the town. He knows his way around blindfolded.”

“You don’t think he’s gone…”

“Gone?”

“He might have been tired of being Isa’s husband.”

Joss looked at me incredulously.

“What about his horse’s coming back like that?”

“He might have wanted to make it look like an accident…”

Joss shook his head and then his eyes dwelt on me almost tenderly.

“It was a bad ending to your first Saturday night.”

“I do hope Ezra’s all right. I like him so much. He was very nice to me.”

He laid his hand on my shoulder lightly and pressed it.

“I didn’t want to disturb you but I thought you might be awake and wanting to know.” Thank you,” I said.

He smiled, hesitated, and I thought he was going to say something, but he seemed to change his mind.

“Good night,” he said and left me.

II.

DISCOVERY AT GROVER’S GULLY

Rumours regarding Ezra’s disappearance grew as the days passed. Some of the stories were quite horrific. He had tempted fate in some way.

He had always been a man who had laughed at legend. He had never minded going past Grover’s Gully after sundown. He had been heard to say that Grover was an old fool and should have taken better care of his money.

The favourite story was that he was the one who had stolen the Green Flash, because in spite of Joss’s desire to keep the theft secret the news of it had spread like news of a lucky strike. It was dear, said

rumour, that Ezra had found it and stolen it and the bad luck of the stone was pursuing him.

Anything could, therefore, have happened to him.

Joss did not express his usual anger at the revival of the stories about the ill luck of the opal. He seemed very subdued. I supposed he could only think of what this meant to Isa.

Search parties had gone out in all directions, but there was no sign of Ezra. Some people said he had made off with the Green Flash and left that wife of his who was not all she should be.

Three days passed while there was talk of nothing but Ezra’s disappearance.

I rode out on my own one late afternoon and as usual Wattle turned her face towards the gap in the hills leading to Graver’s Gully and the road to the Bannock homestead.

It was a hot day and the wind was blowing from the north. It grew stronger and started stirring up dust. It would be very uncomfortable later, but at the moment it was not unpleasant hot, dry, and smelling of the desert.

I rode through the gap and looked about me uneasily. The place looked desolate. Little eddies of dust swirled just above the ground, and I thought: The wind is certainly rising; I’d better get back soon.

“Let’s go home. Wattle,” I said.

Then Wattle behaved in a most extraordinary manner. I urged her to turn so that we could go back through the gap in the hills but she had grown suddenly stubborn and refused to do what I wanted.

What’s wrong. Wattle? ” I asked. She started to move then towards the mine.

“No, Wattle, not that way.”

What had happened to her? She was not going my way but hers.

I pulled on her reins and then Wattle did something which she had never done before. She showed me that I rode her so easily because it was her wish that I should do so. When she changed her mind and decided not to go along with me, I must give way to her. It was a startling discovery.

She began to move forward.

“Wattle!” I cried in a dismayed tone. She ignored me and at that moment I heard two kookaburras laughing. They always seemed to be at hand to witness my discomfiture, but perhaps at other times I heard them without noticing them.

I felt a tingling horror in my spine and that I was in the presence of something uncanny which was quite beyond my powers of understanding.

23S

Very resolutely Wattle was maKing tier way rorwara.

“Wattle, Wattle,” I coaxed in vain for I could sense her indifference to me. She seemed, indeed, to have forgotten that she carried me on her back. I tried coaxing again and then a little anger; it was no use. She was in control.

What was she going to do? I asked myself. Never before had I been so conscious of the fact that I was a novice with horses. I could ride well enough when all was well, but when this was not so, I was incapable-as Joss had hinted-and at that moment I was at the mercy of Wattle, and I knew that she was aware of something of which I was ignorant. Wasn’t it said that horses and dogs had an extra sense, higher powers of perception in matters which were beyond our comprehension?

I don’t know exactly what I expected, but I should not have been surprised to see the spectre of old Grover rise up from the mine to beckon to Wattle.

I had never been so frightened.

Wattle stopped suddenly; she pawed the ground and started to whinny.

Then she turned from the mine and made her way to the right where the ground was very sandy and a ragged mulga bush was growing.

She pricked up her ears and began wildly pawing at the sand. Then she gave a sudden snort. It was obviously one of distress.

“What’s wrong. Wattle?” I asked.

Then I saw that she had uncovered something. I leaned forward.

“Oh God!” I whispered in horror, for I saw that what she had uncovered was what was left of Ezra Bannock.

He had been shot through the head and someone had thought it safe to bury him there under the mulga bush not far from the mine, where, but for Wattle who had loved him, he might never have been discovered.

There was consternation throughout the community when they brought him in. He was taken to the homestead and the : blacksmith made a coffin for him. Then he was laid to rest in the graveyard on the edge of the town and there was a full day’s holiday so that all might go to the funeral and pay their respects to Ezra.

j Joss held a meeting in the Company’s offices which I ^ attended. It was to discuss what had happened and what was i to be done about it.

Ezra Bannock had been murdered and his murderer must be discovered.

Crimes of violence must not go unpunished. In a community such as this, certain laws of conduct had to be rigorously observed, so every effort must be made to bring the murderer to justice.

Notices would be printed offering a reward of fifty pounds to anyone who could give information about the murderer. Everyone who had seen Ezra on the day he disappeared was questioned.