The Moving Finger | Page 5

Mary Gaunt
in the doorway, but when she saw who it was, mindful of
her lover's fierce warning of the night before, she drew back into the
hut, and the sadness on the man's face deepened, for Nellie Durham,
the cattle-duffer's granddaughter, was the desire of his heart, and the
light of his eyes, and Murwidgee Waterhole, when he had charge of the
cattle, was on the main road to everywhere.
He dismounted and entered, and Mrs. Durham bustled up to him--eager
to make amends for Nellie's want of cordiality.
"It's pleased I am to see ye, pleased, pleased," she said, "for 'tis
lonesome hereabouts, now the boys is away down Port Philip way."
"Are the boys away?" he asked, watching Nellie, as in obedience to an
imperious command from her grandmother, she began to set out a
rough meal.
"Oh, ay--there 's on'y Nell an' grandfather, an' me, an' we're gettin' old.
Oh, 't is lonesome for the girl whiles."
If it were, she did not seem to feel it, and she steadfastly refused all
Fisher's timid advances. Farther away than ever he felt her to-day, and
yet she had never looked so fair in his eyes.
He ate his meal slowly, answering the old woman in monosyllables,
when she questioned him as to his camp for the night and his
movements on the following day. Possibly he may have thought it
unwise to take old Durham's wife into his confidence, but if so the men
under him were not so reticent, and when they came in a few moments
later, chatted freely on their preparations for the night, and half in jest
roughly warned the old woman that the cattle must be let alone.
"None o' your larks now, old girl," said Fisher's principal aid. "We
mounts guard turn an' turn about, an' the first livin' critter as comes

anigh them beasts--the watch he shoots on sight."
"What's comin' anigh 'em?" asked the old woman scornfully. "There's
me an' th' old man an' the girl here, an' nary a livin' thing else for miles.
They do say," she added, dropping her voice, "the place is haunted.
Jackson of Noogabbin was along here a month back, and he told me
how the cattle broke camp all along o' the ghost. He seed 'un wi' his
own eyes, a great white thing on a trottin' cob it was. Clean through the
camp it rode moanin', moanin', an' the cattle just broke like mad."
"Oh, yes--I dessay," said the man, "and when them cattle were
mustered, there was a matter o' fifty head missin', I 'll bet. Now if that
ghost comes along my way I shall just put a bullet in him sure as my
name's Ned Kirton. So there, old lady, put that in your pipe and smoke
it. Come along, Nell, my girl--don't be so stingy with that liquor, the
old woman 'll make us pay for it, you bet. Why, Nell, I ain't seen such a
pretty pair o' eyes this many a long day. Give us just one--"
He had caught her roughly by the shoulder, and bent down to kiss her,
but the girl drew back with a low cry that brought Fisher to her aid.
"Let her alone, Ned," he said with a muttered oath.
"Right you are, boss," laughed the other. "There 's a darned sight too
much milk and water there for my taste; I like 'em with a spice o' the
devil in 'em, I do. But if that 's your taste--well, fair's fair an' hands off,
says I."
"It ain't much good, boss," said another man. "She's Gentleman Jim's
gal, she is, and I shouldn't sleep easy if I so much as looked at her."
"Gentleman Jim," he repeated, and the bitterness in his heart none of
his comrades guessed. "Gentleman Jim I heard of yesterday,
somewhere about the head waters of the Murray--no danger from him."
Bill, being a cattle man, cleared his throat and his brain by a good
string of oaths--resonant oaths worthy of a man from the back
blocks--and then gave it as his opinion that Gentleman Jim's being seen

among the ranges yesterday, was no guarantee that he would not be
lifting cattle far on the plains to-day.
"Not our cattle," said Fisher grimly. "We set a watch, and the first
thing--man or beast, or ghost--that comes down among the cattle, we
shoot on sight. D'ye hear that, mother?" and he turned to the old woman,
who merely shook her head and groaned.
"It's old I am--old--old--old. It isn't the likes o' us as 'll touch yer
beasts."
And Nellie slipped outside the door, and looked wistfully and
anxiously across the plain, at the cattle now peacefully grazing on the
salt-bush, and at the mocking mirage in the far
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code

 / 75
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.