on our selection-第15章

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t　all　down。　　On'y　I　could　n't　get　anything；　I'd　er　broke　'er　headthere　was　n't　a　thing；　on'y　dead　cornstalks　and　cow…dung　about。〃　Then　he　lunged　his　fork　desperately　at　a　blowfly　that　persistently　hovered　about　his　plate；　and　commenced。

Joe　had　a　healthy　appetite。　　He　had　charged　his　mouth　with　a　load　of　cold　meat；　when　his　jaws　ceased　work；　and；　opening　his　mouth　as　though　he　were　sleepy；　he　leaned　forward　and　calmly　returned　it　all　to　the　plate。　　Dad　got　suspicious　and　asked　Joe　what　was　up；　but　Joe　only　wiped　his　mouth；　looked　sideways　at　his　plate；　and　pushed　it　away。

All　of　us　stopped　eating　then；　and　stared　at　each　other。　　Mother　said；　〃Well；　II　wrapped　a　cloth　round　it　so　nothing　could　get　in；　and　put　it　in　the　safeI　don't　know　where　on　earth　to　put　the　meat；　I'm　sure；　if　I　put　it　in　a　bag　and　hang　it　up　that　thief　of　a　dog　gets　it。〃

〃Yes；〃　Dad　observed；　〃I　believe　he'd　stick　his　nose　into　hell　itself；　Ellen；　if　he　thought　there　was　a　bone　thereand　there　ought　to　be　lots　by　this　time。〃　　Then　he　turned　over　the　remains　of　that　cold　meat；　and；　considering　we　had　all　witnessed　the　last　kick　of　the　slaughtered　beast；　it　was　surprising　what　animation　this　part　of　him　yet　retained。　　In　vain　did　Dad　explore　for　a　really　dead　piecethere　was　life　in　all　of　it。

Joe　was　n't　satisfied。　　He　said　he　knew　where　there　was　a　lot　of　eggs；　and　disappeared　down　the　yard。　　Eggs　were　not　plentiful　on　our　selection；　because　we　too　often　had　to　eat　the　hens　when　there　was　no　meatthree　or　four　were　as　many　as　we　ever　saw　at　one　time。　　So　on　this　day；　when　Joe　appeared　with　a　hatful；　there　was　excitement。　　He　felt　himself　a　hero。　We　thought　him　a　little　saviour。

〃My！〃　said　Mother；　〃where　did　you　get　all　those？〃

〃Get　'em！　　I've　had　these　planted　for　three　muncethey're　a　nest　I　found　long　ago；　I　thought　I　would　n't　say　anythink　till　we　really　wanted　'em。〃

Just　then　one　of　the　eggs　fell　out　of　the　hat　and　went　off　〃pop〃　on　the　floor。

Dave　nearly　upset　the　table；　he　rose　so　suddenly；　and　covering　his　nose　with　one　hand　he　made　for　the　door；　then　he　scowled　back　over　his　shoulder　at　Joe。　　He　utterly　scorned　his　brother　Joe。　　All　of　us　deserted　the　table　except　Dadhe　stuck　to　his　place　manfully；　it　took　a　lot　to　shift　HIM。

Joe　must　have　had　a　fine　nerve。　　〃That's　on'y　one　bad　'n'；〃　he　said；　taking　the　rest　to　the　fireplace　where　the　kettle　stood。　　Then　Dad；　who　had　remained　calm　and　majestic；　broke　out。　　〃Damn　y'；　boy！〃　he　yelled；　〃take　th'　awful　things　outsideYOU　tinker！〃　　Joe　took　them　out　and　tried　them　all；　but　I　forget　if　he　found　a　good　one。

Dad　peered　into　the　almost…empty　water…cask　and　again　muttered　a　short　prayer　for　rain。　　He　decided　to　do　no　more　grubbing　that　day；　but　to　run　wire　around　the　new　land　instead。　　The　posts　had　been　in　the　ground　some　time；　and　were　bored。　　Dave　and　Sarah　bored　them。　　Sarah　was　as　good　as　any　manso　Dad　reckoned。　　She　could　turn　her　hand　to　anything；　from　sewing　a　shirt　to　sinking　a　post…hole。　　She　could　give　Dave　inches　in　arm　measurements；　and　talk　about　a　leg！　　She　HAD　a　lega　beauty！　　It　was　as　thick　at　the　ankle　as　Dad's　was　at　the　thigh；　nearly。

Anyone　who　would　know　what　real　amusement　is　should　try　wiring　posts。　What　was　to　have　been　the　top　wire　（the　No。　8　stuff）　Dad　commenced　to　put　in　the　bottom　holes；　and　we　ran　it　through　some　twelve　or　fifteen　posts　before　he　saw　the　mistakethen　we　dragged　it　out　slowly　and　savagely；　Dad　swearing　adequately　all　the　time。

At　last　everything　went　splendidly。　　We　dragged　the　wire　through　panel　after　panel；　and　at　intervals　Dad　would　examine　the　blistering　sky　for　signs　of　rain。　　Once　when　he　looked　up　a　red　bullock　was　reaching　for　his　waistcoat；　which　hung　on　a　branch　of　a　low　tree。　　Dad　sang　out。　　The　bullock　poked　out　his　tongue　and　reached　higher。　　Then　Dad　told　Joe　to　run。　　Joe　ranso　did　the　bullock；　but　faster；　and　with　the　waistcoat　that　once　was　a　part　of　Mother's　shawl　half…way　down　his　throat。　　Had　the　shreds　and　ribbons　that　dangled　to　it　been　a　little　longer；　he　might　have　trodden　on　them　and　pulled　it　back；　but　he　did　n't。　　Joe　deemed　it　his　duty　to　follow　that　red　bullock　till　it　dropped　the　waistcoat；　so　he　hammered　along　full　split　behind。　　Dad　and　Dave　stood　watching　until　pursued　and　pursuer　vanished　down　the　gully；　then　Dad　said　something　about　Joe　being　a　fool；　and　they　pulled　at　the　wire　again。　　They　were　nearing　a　corner　post；　and　Dad　was　hauling　the　wire　through　the　last　panel；　when　there　came　the　devil's　own　noise　of　galloping　hoofs。　　Fifty　or　more　cattle　came　careering　along　straight　for　the　fence；　bellowing　and　kicking　up　their　heels　in　the　air；　as　cattle　do　sometimes　after　a　shower　of　rain。　Joe　was　behind　themconsiderablystill　at　full　speed　and　yelping　like　a　dog。　　Joe　loved　excitement。

For　weeks　those　cattle　had　been　accustomed　to　go　in　and　out　between　the　posts；　and　they　did　n't　seem　to　have　any　thoughts　of　wire　as　they　bounded　along。　　Dave　stood　with　gaping　mouth。　　Dad　groaned；　and　the　wire's…end　he　was　holding　in　his　hand　flew　up　with　a　whiz　and　took　a　scrap　of　his　ear　away。　　The　cattle　got　mixed　up　in　the　wires。　　Some　toppled　over；　some　were　caught　by　the　legs；　some　by　the　horns。　　They　dragged　the　wire　twenty　and　thirty　yards　away；　twisted　it　round　logs；　and　left　a　lot　of　the　posts　pointing　to　sunset。

Oh；　Dad's　language　then！　　He　swung　his　arms　about　and　foamed　at　the　mouth。　Dave　edged　away　from　him。

Joe　came　up　waving　triumphantly　a　chewed　piece　of　the　waistcoat。　　〃D…d…did　it　g…give　them　a　buster；　Dad？〃　he　said；　the　sweat　running　over　his　face　as　though　a　spring　had　broken　out　on　top　of　his　head。　　Dad　jumped　a　log　and　tried　to　unbuckle　his　strap　and　reach　for　Joe　at　the　same　time；　but　Joe　fled。

That　threw　a　painful　pall　over　everything。　　Dad　declared　he　was　sick　and　tired　of　the　whole　thing；　and　would　n't　do　another　hand's…turn。　　Dave　meditated　and　walked　along　the　fence；　plucking　off　scraps　of　skin　and　hair　that　here　and　there　clung　to　the　bent　and　battered　wire。

We　had　just　finished　supper　when　old　Bob　Wren；　a　bachelor　who　farmed　about　two　miles　from　us；　arrived。　　He　used　to　come　over　every　mail…night　and　bring　his　newspaper　with　him。　　Bob　could　n't　read　a　word；　so　he　always　got　Dad　to　spell　over　the　paper　to　him。　　WE　did　n't　take　a　newspaper。

Bob　said　there　were　clouds　gathering　behind　Flat　Top　when　he　came　in；　and　Dad　went　out　and　looked；　and　for　the　fiftieth　time　that　day　prayed　in　his　own　way　for　rain。　　Then　he　took　the　paper；　and　we　gathered　at　the　table　to　listen。　　〃Hello；〃　he　commenced；　〃this　is　M'Doolan's　paper　you've　got；　Bob。〃

Bob　rather　thought　it　was　n't。

〃Yes；　yes；　man；　it　IS；〃　Dad　put　in；　〃see；　it's　addressed　to　him。〃

Bob　leaned　over　and　LOOKED　at　the　address；　and　said：　　〃No；　no；　that's　mine；　it　always　comes　like　that。〃　　Dad　laughed。　　We　all　laughed。　　He　opened　it；　anyway。　　He　　had　n't　read　for　five　minutes　when　the　light　flickered　nearly　out。　　Sarah　reckoned　the　oil　was　about　done；　and　poured　water　in　the　lamp　to　raise　the　kerosene　to　the　wick；　but　that　did　n't　last　long；　and；　as　there　was　no　fat　in　the　house；　Dad　squatted　on　the　floor　and　read　by　the　firelight。

He　plodded　through　the　paper　tediously　from　end　to　end；　reading　the　murders　and　robberies　a　second　time。　　The　clouds　that　old　Bob　said　were　gathering　when　he　came　in　were　now　developing　to　a　storm；　for　the　wind　began　to　rise；　and　the　giant　iron…bark　tree　that　grew　close　behind　the　house　swayed　and　creaked　weirdly；　and　threw　out　those　strange　sobs　and　moans　that　on　wild　nights　bring　terror　to　the　hearts　of　bush　children。　　A　glimmer　of　lightning　appeared　through　the　cracks　in　the　slabs。　　Old　Bob　said　he　would　go　before　it　came　on；　and　started　into　the　inky　darkness。

〃It's　coming！〃　Dad　said；　as　he　shut　the　door　and　put　the　peg　in　after　seeing　old　Bob　out。　　And　it　camein　no　time。　　A　fierce　wind　struck　the　house。　　Then　a　vivid　flash　of　lightning　lit　up　every　crack　and　hole；　and　a　clap　of　thunder　followed　that　nearly　shook　the　place　down。

Dad　ran　to　the　back　door　and　put　his　shoulder　against　it；　Dave　stood　to　the　front　one；　and　Sarah　sat　on　the　sofa　with　her　arms　around　Mother；　telling　her　not　to　be　afraid。　　The　wind　blew　furiouslyits　one　aim　seemed　the　shifting　of　the　house。　　Gust　after　gust　struck　the