An Outback Marriage

Revoke, the station champion, came in first in his race, and was

promptly disqualified for short weight, but Mary didn't care.

"What is the use of worrying over it?" she said. "It doesn't really

matter."

"I have been done," said the bushman. "Red Mick lent me the lead-cloth,

and helped me saddle up, and I believe he took some lead out while

we were saddling. It never dropped out. That I'm sure of."

"Oh, never mind, Mr. Gordon! Forget it! There's your brother, Hugh,

thinks we ought not to have come, and now you are turning sulky.

Why do all you Australian people amuse yourselves so sadly?"

"I don't know what you mean by sadly," said Charlie, huffed. "I

think you ladies had better go home soon. Things are likely to be

a bit lively later on. They have got a door off its hinges and laid

on the ground, and a fiddler playing jigs, and the men and women

are dancing each other down; it won't be long till there'll be a

fight, and somebody will get stretched out."

Sure enough, they could see an excited crowd of people gathered

round a fiddler, who was playing away for dear life, and the yells

and whoops told them that partisanship was running high. All

the young "bloods" of the ranges were there in their very best

finery--cabbage-tree hat (well-tilted back, and secured by a string

under the nose), gaudy cotton shirt, and tweed trousers of loud

pattern, secured round the waist by flaring red or green sashes. In

this garb such as fancied themselves as dancers were taking their

turns on the door. They began by ambling with a sort of strutting

walk once or twice round the circumscribed platform; then, with

head well back and eyes closed, dashed into the steps of the dance,

each introducing varied steps and innovations of his own, which,

if intricate and neatly executed, were greeted with great applause.

So it happened that after Jerry the Swell, the recognised champion

of the Doyles, had gone off with an extremely self-satisfied air,

some adherents of young Red Mick, the opposition champion, took

occasion to criticise Jerry's performance. "Darnce!" they said.

"Jerry the Swell, darnce! Why, we've got an old poley cow would

darnce him blind! Haven't we, Mick?"

"Yairs," said young Mick, with withering emphasis. "Darnce! He can't

darnce. I'll run, darnce, jump, or fight any man in the district

for two quid."

Before the challenge could be accepted there was an unexpected

interruption. Hugh had put the big trotting mare in the light trap

for Miss Harriott and Mary to drive home. "Gentle Annie" was used

to racing, and Hugh warned the girls to be careful in starting

her, as she would probably be excited by the crowd, and then turned

back to pack up the racing gear and start the four-in-hand with

the children. As they were putting the racing saddle, bridles,

and other gear into the vehicle, Charlie, who had been fuming ever

since his defeat, caught sight of the missing lead-bag. He picked

it up without a word, and with a fierce gleam in his eye, started

over to the group of dancers, followed hurriedly by Carew. Just

as young Mick was repeating his challenge to run, jump, dance, or

fight anybody in the district, Gordon threw the lead-bag, weighing

about six pounds, full in Red Mick's face.