An Outback Marriage

"Oh, it's not so bad. There's a store there, and a few mines

scattered about. Mostly Chinese mines. The storekeeper there's

a great soaker, nearly always on the drink. Name's Sampson. He'll

tell you where to find Tommy Prince. Prince and his mates have a

claim twelve miles out from there, and if Tommy ain't gone to the

Oriental, he might go down with you."

"Supposing Tommy's at his claim, twelve miles out," said Hugh, "how

can I get out?"

"I dunno," said the storekeeper, who was getting tired of talking

so long without a drink. "I dunno how you'll get out there. Better

have a drink--what'll you have?"

Hugh walked out of the store in despair. He found himself engaged

in what appeared to be an endless chase after a phantom Considine,

and the difficulties in his way semed insuperable. Yet how could

he go back and tell them all at home that he had failed? What

would they think of him? The thought made him miserable; and he

determined, if he failed, never to go back to the old station at

all.

So he returned to his hotel, packed his valise, and set out to look

for the pack-horse man. He found him fairly sober; soon bargained

to be allowed to ride one of the horses, and in due course was

deposited at the Margaret--a city consisting of one galvanised-iron

building, apparently unoccupied. His friend dismounted and had a

drink with him out of his flask. They kicked at the door unavailingly;

then his mate went on into the indefinite, leaving him face to face

with general desolation.

The Margaret store was the only feature in the landscape--a small

building with a heap of empty bottles in the immediate foreground,

and all round it the grim bush, a vista of weird twisted trees

and dull grey earth with scanty grass. At the back were a well, a

windlass, and a trough for water, round which about a hundred goats

were encamped. Hugh sat and smoked, and looked at the prospect.

By-and-by out of the bush came two men, a Chinaman and a white man.

The Chinaman was like all Chinamen; the white man was a fiery,

red-faced, red-bearded, red-nosed little fellow. The Chinee

was dragging a goat along by the horns, the goat hanging back and

protesting loudly in semi-human screams; every now and again a black

mongrel dog would make sudden fiendish dashes at the captive, and

fasten its teeth in its neck. This made it bellow louder; but the

Chinaman, with the impassibility of his race, dragged goat, dog,

and all along, without the slightest show of interest.

The white man trudged ahead, staring fixedly in front; when they

reached the store he stared at Hugh as if he were the Bunyip, but said

no word. Then he unlocked the door, went in, and came out with a

large knife, with which he proceeded to murder the goat scientifically.

The Chinee meanwhile bailed up the rest of the animals, and caught

and milked a couple of "nannies," while a patriarchal old "billy"

walked fragrantly round the yard, uttering hoarse "buukhs" of

defiance.