We of the Never-Never Part 27

Four dozen eggs in a pudding necessitates an all-night boiling, and because of this we offered to share "watches" with Cheon, but were routed in a body. "We were better in bed," he said. What would happen to his dinner if any one's appet.i.te failed for want of rest? There were too few of us as it was, and, besides, he would have to stay up all night in any case, for the mince pies were yet to be made, in addition to brownie and another plum-pudding for the "boys," to say nothing of the hop-beer, which if made too soon would turn with the thunder and if made too late would not "jump up" in time. He did not add that he would have trusted no mortal with the care of the fires that night.

He did add, however, that it would be as well to dispatch the Vealer over night, and that an early move (about fowl-sing-out) would not be amiss; and, always obedient to Cheon's will, we all turned in, in good time, and becoming drowsy, dreamed of "watching" great mobs of Vealers, with each Vealer endowed with a plum-pudding for a head.

CHAPTER XXIII

At earliest dawn we were awakened by wild, despairing shrieks, and were instinctively groping for our revolvers when we remembered the fatted fowls and Cheon's lonely vigil, and turning out, dressed hastily, realising that Christmas had come, and the pullets had sung their last "sing-out."

When we appeared the stars were still dimly s.h.i.+ning, but Cheon's face was as luminous as a full moon, as, greeting each and all of us with a "Melly Clisymus," he suggested a task for each and all. Some could see about taking the Vealer down from the gallows; six lubras were "rounded up" for the plucking of the pullets, while the rest of us were sent out, through wet gra.s.s and thicket, into the cold, grey dawn, to gather in "big, big mob bough and mistletoe," for the beautifying of all things.

How we worked! With Cheon at the helm, every one was of necessity enthusiastic. The Vealer was quartered in double-quick time, and the first fitful rays of sunlight found their way to the Creek crossing to light up an advancing forest of boughs and mistletoe clumps that moved forward on nimble black legs.

In a gleaming, rustling procession the forest of green boughs advanced, all crimson-flecked with mistletoe and sunlight, and prostrated itself around us in mighty heaps at the head of the homestead thoroughfare.

Then the nimble black legs becoming miraculously endowed with nimble black bodies and arms, soon the gleaming boughs were piled high upon the iron roof of the Eastern verandah to keep our impromptu dining-hall cool and fresh. High above the roof rose the greenery, and over the edge of the verandah, throughout its length, hung a deep fringe of green, reaching right down to the ground at the posts; everywhere among the boughs trailed long strands of bright red mistletoe, while within the leafy bower itself hanging four feet deep from the centre of the high roof one dense elongated ma.s.s of mistletoe swayed gently in the breeze, its heaped-up scarlet blossoms cl.u.s.tering about it like a swarm of glorious bees.

Cheon interrupted the decorations with a call to "Bressfa.s.s! Duck cully and lice," he sang boldly, and then followed in a doubtful, hesitating quaver: "I--think--sausage. Must have sausage for Clisymus bress-fa.s.s,"

he said emphatically, as he ushered us to seats, and we agreed with our usual "Of course!" But we found fried b.a.l.l.s of minced collops, which Cheon hastened to explain would have been sausages if only he had had skins to pack them into.

"Him close up sausage!" he a.s.sured us, but that anxious quaver was back in his voice, and to banish all clouds from his loyal old heart, we ate heartily of the collops, declaring they were sausages in all BUT skins.

Skins, we persuaded him, were merely appendages to sausages, barriers, in fact, between men and delectable feasts; and satisfied that we were satisfied, he became all beams once more, and called our attention to the curried duck.

The duck discussed, he hinted that dinner was the be all and end all of "Clisymus," and, taking the hint, we sent the preparations merrily forward.

Every chair and stool on the run was mustered; two tables were placed end to end beneath that cl.u.s.tering, mistletoe and covered with clean white tablecloths--remembering the story of the rags and hobble rings we refrained from serviettes--the hop-beer was set in canvas water bags to keep it cool; and Cheon pointing out that the approach from the kitchens was not all that could be desired, an enormous tent-fly was stretched away from the roof of the verandah, extending it half-way to the kitchen, and further greenery was used, decorating it within and without to make it a fitting pa.s.sage-way for the transport of Cheon's triumphs. Then Cheon's kitchen decorations were renewed and added to; and after that further suggestions suggested and attended to. Everything that could be done was done, and by eight o'clock all was ready for Cheon's triumphs, all but our appet.i.tes and time of day.

By nine o'clock Mac and Tam had arrived, and after everything had been sufficiently admired, we trooped in a body to the kitchen, obedient to a call from Cheon.

Triumph after triumph was displayed, and after listening gravely and graciously to our a.s.surances that already everything was "more better'n Pine Creek last year," Cheon allowed us a glimpse of the pudding through a cloud of steam, the company standing reverently around the fire trench in a circle, as it bent over the bubbling boiler; then scuttling away before us like an old hen with a following of chickens, he led the way to the waterbags, and asked our opinion on the hop-beer: "You think him jump-up longa dinner time? Eh, boss ?" he said anxiously, as the Maluka, holding a bottle between us and the light, examined it critically. "Me make him three o'clock longa night-time."

It looked remarkably still and tranquil, but we hoped for the best, and half an hour later were back at the waterbags, called thither to decide whether certain little globules were sediment or air-bubbles. Being sanguine, we decided in favour of bubbles, and in another half-hour were called back again to the bags to see that the bubbles were bubbles indeed, having dropped in at the kitchens on our way to give an opinion on veal stuffing and bread sauce; and within another half-hour were peering into the oven to inspect further triumphs of cooking.

Altogether the morning pa.s.sed quickly and merrily, any time Cheon left us being spent in making our personal appearance worthy of the feast.

Scissors and hand-gla.s.ses were borrowed, and hair cut, and chins shaved, until we feared our Christmas guests would look like convicts. Then the Dandy producing blacking brushes, boots that had never seen blacking before, shone like ebony. After that a mighty was.h.i.+ng of hands took place, to remove the blacking stain; and then the Quarters settled down to a general "t.i.tivation," Tam "cleaning his nails for Christmas," amid great applause.

By eleven o'clock the Dandy was immaculate, the guests satisfied that they "weren't too dusty," while the Maluka, in spotless white relieved with a silk c.u.mmerbund and tie, bid fair to outdo the Dandy. Even the Quiet Stockman had succeeded in making a soft white s.h.i.+rt "look as though it had been ironed once." And then every lubra being radiant with soap, new dresses, and ribbons, the missus, determined not be to outdone in the matter of Christmas finery, burrowed into trunks and boxes, and appeared in cream was.h.i.+ng silk, lace fichu, ribbons, rings, and frivolities--finery, by the way, packed down south for that "commodious station home."

Cheon was enraptured with the appearance of his company, and worked, and slaved, and chuckled in the kitchen as only Cheon could, until at last the critical moment had arrived. Dinner was ready, but an unforeseen difficulty had presented itself. How was it to be announced, Cheon queried, having called the missus to the kitchen for a hasty consultation, for was it wise to puff up the Quarters with a chanted summons?

A compromise being decided on as the only possible course, after the booming teamster's bell had summoned the Quarters, Cheon, all in white himself, bustled across to the verandah to call the gentry to the dinner by word of mouth:--"Dinner! Boss! Missus!" he sang--careful to specify his gentry, for not even reflected glory was to be shed over the Quarters. Then, moving in and out among the greenery as he put finis.h.i.+ng touches to the table here and there, he glided into the wonders of his Christmas menu: "Soo-oup! Chuckie! Ha-am! Roooast Veal-er!" he chanted.

"Cauli-flower! Pee-es! Bee-ens! Toe-ma-toes!" (with a regretful "tinned"

in parenthesis)--"Shweet Poo-tay-toes! Bread Sau-ce!" On and on through mince pies, sweets, cakes, and fruits, went the monotonous chant, the Maluka and the missus standing gravely at attention, until a triumphant paeon of "Plum-m-m Poo-dinn!" soared upwards as Cheon waddled off through the decorated verandah extension for his soup tureen.

But a sudden, unaccountable shyness had come over the Quarters, and as Cheon trundled away, a hurried argument reached our ears of "Go on! You go first!" "No, you. Here! none of that"; and then, after a short subdued scuffle, the Dandy, looking slightly dishevelled, came through the doorway with just the suspicion of a.s.sistance from within; and the ice being thus broken the rest of the company came forward in a body and slipped into whichever seat came handiest.

As all of us, with the exception of the Dandy, were Scotch, four of us being Macs, the Maluka chose our Christmas grace from Bobby Burns; and quietly and reverently our Scotch hearts listened to those homely words:

"Some ha'e meat, and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it; But we ha'e meat, and we can eat, And so the Lord be thankit."

Then came Cheon's turn, and gradually and cleverly his triumphs were displayed.

To begin with, we were served to clear soup--"just to tickle your palates," the Maluka announced, as Cheon in a hoa.r.s.e whisper instructed him to serve "little-fellow-helps" anxious that none of the keenness should be taken from our appet.i.tes. All served, the tureen was whisked away to ensure against further inroads, and then Cheon trundled round the table, removing the soup plates, inquiring of each guest in turn if he found the soup to his liking, and informing all that lubras were on guard in the kitchen, lest the station cats should so far forget themselves as to take an unlawful interest in our dinner.

The soup finished with, Cheon disappeared into the kitchen regions, to reappear almost immediately at the head of a procession of lubras, each of whom carried a piece de resistance to the feast: Jimmy's Nellie leading with the six pullets on one great dish, while Bett-Bett brought up the rear with the bread sauce. On through a vista of boughs and mistletoe came the triumphs--how glad we were the way had been made more worthy of their progress--the lubras, of course, were with them, but we had eyes only for the triumphs: Those pullets all a-row with plump brown b.r.e.a.s.t.s bursting with impatience to reveal the snowy flesh within; marching behind them that great sizzling "haunch" of veal, taxing Rosy's strength to the utmost; then Mine Host's crisply crumbed ham trudging along, and filling Bertie's Nellie with delight, with its tightly bunched little wreath of mistletoe usurping the place of the orthodox paper frill; behind again vegetable dishes two abreast, borne by the lesser lights of the staff (lids off, of course: none of our glory was to be hidden under covers); tailing along with the rejected and gravy boats came laden soup-plates to eke out the supply of vegetable dishes; and, last of all, that creamy delight of bread sauce, borne sedately and demurely by Bett-Bett.

As the triumphs ranged themselves into a semi-circle at the head of the table, our first impulse was to cheer, but obeying a second impulse we did something infinitely better, for, as Cheon relieved his grinning waitresses, we a.s.sured him collectively, and individually, and repeatedly that never had any one seen anything in Pine Creek so glorious as even the dimmest shadow of this feast; and as we reiterated our a.s.surance, I doubt if any man in all the British Empire was prouder or more justified in his pride than our Cheon. Cook and gardener forsooth! Cheon was Cheon, and only Cheon; and there is no word in the English language to define Cheon or the position he filled, simply because there was never another like Cheon.

"Chuckie!" he sang, placing the pullets before the Maluka, and dispatching Jimmy's Nellie for hot plates; "Roast Vealer for Mac," and as Mac smiled and acknowledged the honour, Rosy was dismissed. "Boilee Ham" was allotted to the Dandy; and as Bertie's Nellie scampered away, Cheon announced other triumphs in turn and in order of merit, each of the company receiving a dish also in order of merit: Tam-o'-Shanter contenting himself with the gravy boat, while, from the beginning, the Quiet Stockman had been honoured with the hop-beer.

Long before the last waitress was relieved, the carvers were at work, and the company was bubbling over with merriment. "Have some veal, chaps?"

the Sanguine Scot said, opening the ball by sticking a carving fork into the great joint, and waving the knife in a general way round the company; then as the gravy sizzed out in a steaming gurgle he added invitingly: "Come on, chaps! This is VEAL prime stuff! None of your staggering Bob tack"; and the Maluka and the Dandy bidding against him, to Cheon's delight, every one "came on" for some of everything; for veal and ham and chicken and several vegetables and sauces blend wonderfully together when a Cheon's hand has been at the helm.

The higher the plates were piled the more infectious Cheon's chuckle became, until nothing short of a national calamity could have checked our flow of spirits. Mishaps only added to our enjoyment, and when a bottle of hop-beer went off unexpectedly as the Quiet Stockman was preparing to open it, and he, with the best intentions in the world, planted his thumb over the mouth of the bottle, and directed two frothing streams over himself and the company in general, the delight of every one was unbounded--a delight intensified a hundredfold by Cheon, who, with his last doubt removed, danced and gurgled in the background, chuckling in an ecstasy of joy: "My word, missus! That one beer PLENTY jump up!" As there were no carpets to spoil, and every one's clothes had been washed again and again, no one's temper was spoiled, and a clean towel quickly repairing all damages, our only regret was that a bottle of beer had been lost.

But the plum-pudding was yet to come, and only Cheon was worthy to carry it to the feast; and as he came through the leafy way, bearing the huge mottled ball, as big as a bullock's head--all ablaze with spirits and dancing light and crowned with mistletoe--it would have been difficult to say which looked most pleased with itself, Cheon or the pudding; for each seemed wreathed in triumphant smiles.

We held our breaths in astonishment, each feeling like the entire Cratchit family rolled into one, and by the time we had recovered speech, Cheon was soberly carrying one third of the pudding to the missus. The Maluka had put it aside on a plate to simplify the serving of the pudding, and Cheon, sure that the Maluka could mean such a goodly slice for no one but the missus, had carried it off.

There were to be no "little-fellow helps" this time. Cheon saw to that, returning the goodly slice to the Maluka under protest, and urging all to return again and again for more. How he chuckled as we hunted for the "luck" and the "wealth," like a parcel of children, pa.s.sing round bushman jokes as we hunted.

"Too much country to work," said one of the Macs, when after a second helping they were both still "missing." "Covered their tracks all right," said another. The Quiet Stockman "reckoned they were bushed all right." "Going in a circle," the sick Mac suggested, and then a shout went up as the Dandy found the "luck" in his last mouthful.

"Perhaps some one's given the "wealth" to his dog," Tam suggested, to our consternation; for that was more than possible, as the dogs from time to time had received t.i.t-bits from their masters as a matter of course.

But the man who deserved it most was to find it. As we sat sipping tea, after doing our best with the cakes and water-melons, we heard strange gurgles in the kitchen, and then Cheon appeared choking and coughing, but triumphantly announcing that he had found the wealth in his first mouthful. "My word! Me close up gobble him," he chuckled, exhibiting the pudding-coated threepence, and not one of us grudged him his good omens. May they have been fulfilled a thousand-fold!

Undoubtedly our Christmas dinner was a huge success--from a black fellow's point of view it was the most sensible thing we Whites had ever organised; for half the Vealer, another huge pudding, several yards of sweet currant "brownie,'" a new pipe apiece, and a few pounds of tobacco had found their way to the "humpy"; and although headaches may have been in the near future, there was never a heartache among them.

All afternoon we sat and chatted as only the bush-folk can (the bush-folk are only silent when in uncongenial society), "putting in" a fair amount of time writing our names on one page of an autograph alb.u.m; and as strong brown hands tried their utmost to honour Christmas day with something decent in the way of writing, each man declared that he had never written so badly before, while the company murmured: "Oh, yours is all right. Look at mine!"

Jack, however, was the exception; for when his turn came, with quiet humour he "thought that on the whole his was a bit better'n last Christmas," which naturally set us discussing the advantages of learning; but when we all agreed "it would be a bit off having to employ a private secretary when you were doing a bit of courting," Jack hastened to a.s.sure us that "courting" would never be in his line--coming events do not always throw shadows before them. Thus from "learning" we slipped into "courts.h.i.+p" and marriage, and on into life--life and its problems--and, chatting, agreed that, in spite of, or perhaps BECAUSE of, its many acknowledged disadvantages, the simple, primitive bush-life is the sweetest and best of all--sure that although there may have been more imposing or less unconventional feasts elsewhere that Christmas day, yet nowhere in all this old round world of ours could there have been a happier, merrier, healthier-hearted gathering. No one was bored. No one wished himself elsewhere. All were sure of their welcome. All were light-hearted and at ease; although no one so far forgot himself as to pour his hop-beer into the saucer in a lady's presence, for, low be it spoken, although the missus had a gla.s.s tumbler, there were only two on the run, and the men-folk drank the Christmas healths from cups, and enamel at that; for a w.i.l.l.y-w.i.l.l.y had taken Cheon unaware when he was laden with a tray containing every gla.s.s and china cup fate had left us, and, as by a miracle, those two gla.s.ses had been saved from the wreckage.

But enamel cups were no hards.h.i.+ps to the bush-folk, and besides, nothing inconvenienced us that day--excepting perhaps doing justice to further triumphs at afternoon tea; and all we had to wish for was the company of Dan and the Fizzer.

To add to the general comfort, a gentle north-west breeze blew all through the day, besides being what Bett-Bett called a "shady day," cloudy and cool; and to add to the general rejoicing, before we had quite done with "Clisymus" an extra mail came in per black boy--a mail sent out to us by the "courtesy of our officers" at the Katherine, "seeing some of the packages felt like Christmas."

It came to us on the verandah. Two very full Mailbags borne by two very empty black boys, and in an incredibly short s.p.a.ce of time there were two very full black boys, and two very empty mail-bags; for the mail was our delayed mail, and exactly what we wanted; and the boys had found all they wanted at Cheon's hospitable hands.

But even Christmas days must come to an end; and as the sun slipped down to the west, Mac and Tam "reckoned it was time to be getting a move on "; and as they mounted amid further Christmas wishes, with saddle-pouches bursting with offerings from Cheon for "Clisymus supper," a strange feeling of sadness crept in among us, and we wondered where "we would all be next Christmas." Then our Christmas guests rode out into the forest, taking with them the sick Mac, and as they faded from our sight we knew that the memory of that Christmas day would never fade out of our lives; for we bush-folk have long memories and love to rest now and then beside the milestones of the past.

CHAPTER XXIV

A Day or two after Christmas, Dan came in full of regrets because he had "missed the celebrations," and gratified Cheon's heart with a minute and detailed account of the "Clisymus" at Pine Creek. Then the homestead settled down to the stagnation of the Wet, and as the days and weeks slipped by, travellers came in and went on, and Mac and Tam paid us many visits, as with the weeks we slipped through a succession of anniversaries.