"The next Saturday evening after the rainy Monday at the Doctor's, I went down to fish for tailers -- and Lizzie. I went down under the banks to where there was a big she-oak stump half in the water, going quietly, with an idea of not frightening the fish. I was just unwinding the line from my rod, when I noticed the end of another rod sticking out from the other side of the stump; and while I watched it was dropped into the water. Then I heard a murmur, and craned my neck round the back of the stump to see who it was.
I saw the back view of Jack Drew and Miss Wilson; he had his arm round her waist, and her head was on his shoulder. She said, `I WILL trust you, Jack -- I know you'll give up the drink for my sake.
And I'll help you, and we'll be so happy!' or words in that direction.
A thunderstorm was coming on. The sky had darkened up with a great blue-black storm-cloud rushing over, and they hadn't noticed it.
I didn't mind, and the fish bit best in a storm. But just as she said `happy' came a blinding flash and a crash that shook the ridges, and the first drops came peltering down. They jumped up and climbed the bank, while I perched on the she-oak roots over the water to be out of sight as they passed. Half way to the town I saw them standing in the shelter of an old stone chimney that stood alone.
He had his overcoat round her and was sheltering her from the wind. . . ."
"Smoke-oh, Joe. The tea's stewing."
Mitchell got up, stretched himself, and brought the billy and pint-pots to the head of my camp. The moon had grown misty. The plain horizon had closed in. A couple of boughs, hanging from the gnarled and blasted timber over the billabong, were the perfect shapes of two men hanging side by side.
Mitchell scratched the back of his neck and looked down at the pup curled like a glob of mud on the sand in the moonlight, and an idea struck him. He got a big old felt hat he had, lifted his pup, nose to tail, fitted it in the hat, shook it down, holding the hat by the brim, and stood the hat near the head of his doss, out of the moonlight. "He might get moonstruck," said Mitchell, "and I don't want that pup to be a genius." The pup seemed perfectly satisfied with this new arrangement.
"Have a smoke," said Mitchell. "You see," he added, with a sly grin, "I've got to make up the yarn as I go along, and it's hard work.
It seems to begin to remind me of yarns your grandmother or aunt tells of things that happened when she was a girl -- but those yarns are true.
You won't have to listen long now; I'm well on into the second volume.
"After the storm I hurried home to the tent -- I was batching with a carpenter. I changed my clothes, made a fire in the fire-bucket with shavings and ends of soft wood, boiled the billy, and had a cup of coffee. It was Saturday night. My mate was at the Royal; it was cold and dismal in the tent, and there was nothing to read, so I reckoned I might as well go up to the Royal, too, and put in the time.
"I had to pass the Bank on the way. It was the usual weatherboard box with a galvanised iron top -- four rooms and a passage, and a detached kitchen and wash-house at the back; the front room to the right (behind the office) was the family bedroom, and the one opposite it was the living room. The `Advertiser' office was next door.
Jack Drew camped in a skillion room behind his printing office, and had his meals at the Royal. I noticed the storm had taken a sheet of iron off the skillion, and supposed he'd sleep at the Royal that night.
Next to the `Advertiser' office was the police station (still called the Police Camp) and the Courthouse. Next was the Imperial Hotel, where the scrub aristocrats went. There was a vacant allotment on the other side of the Bank, and I took a short cut across this to the Royal.
"They'd forgotten to pull down the blind of the dining-room window, and I happened to glance through and saw she had Jack Drew in there and was giving him a cup of tea. He had a bad cold, I remember, and I suppose his health had got precious to her, poor girl.
As I glanced she stepped to the window and pulled down the blind, which put me out of face a bit -- though, of course, she hadn't seen me.
I was rather surprised at her having Jack in there, till I heard that the banker, the postmaster, the constable, and some others were ****** a night of it at the Imperial, as they'd been doing pretty often lately -- and went on doing till there was a blow-up about it, and the constable got transferred Out Back. I used to drink my share then.
We smoked and played cards and yarned and filled 'em up again at the Royal till after one in the morning. Then I started home.
"I'd finished giving the Bank a couple of coats of stone-colour that week, and was cutting in in dark colour round the spouting, doors, and window-frames that Saturday. My head was pretty clear going home, and as I passed the place it struck me that I'd left out the only varnish brush I had. I'd been using it to give the sashes a coat of varnish colour, and remembered that I'd left it on one of the window-sills -- the sill of her bedroom window, as it happened.
I knew I'd sleep in next day, Sunday, and guessed it would be hot, and I didn't want the varnish tool to get spoiled; so I reckoned I'd slip in through the side gate, get it, and take it home to camp and put it in oil.
The window sash was jammed, I remember, and I hadn't been able to get it up more than a couple of inches to paint the runs of the sash.
The grass grew up close under the window, and I slipped in quietly. I noticed the sash was still up a couple of inches. Just as I grabbed the brush I heard low voices inside -- Ruth Wilson's and Jack Drew's -- in her room.
"The surprise sent about a pint of beer up into my throat in a lump.
I tip-toed away out of there. Just as I got clear of the gate I saw the banker being helped home by a couple of cronies.
"I went home to the camp and turned in, but I couldn't sleep.
I lay think--think--thinking, till I thought all the drink out of my head.
I'd brought a bottle of ale home to last over Sunday, and I drank that.
