Dragonfly

Otago Witness, Issue 3862, 20 March 1928, Page 8

Dragonfly

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Bernard Cronin

(Copyright.—For the Otago Witness.)

CHAPTER XII. Apart from irregular and ' boisterous Interchanges of hospitality between the residents of Birdseye and the station hands—the last being marshalled to willing hostship by' their foreman, an angular worshipper of Bacchus, by name •* Spinifex ” Sloan—Yambatilli was not given to much entertainment, excepting upon the occasions ♦hen Nell Nye took holiday with her father. George Nye grumbled a great deal at what he- called her intei-ference with" the routine of work. Men who danced and caroused until the small hours, he would assert violently, were in no shape to earn the wages paid them. None the less, he made no active protest when Nell organised dances in the huge woolshed—survival of the days when Yambatalli ran. sheep more or less successfully, until finally disheartened by dingoes, burr and spear-gra-ss. Grinning stockmen carried down the piano from the homestead and garnished the draughty Walls of the impromntu ballroom with clumps of flowering eucalypt, and yellow-feathered pampas-grass, strung with trailing sarsaparilla and native jasmine. From the kitchen of the bunkhouse would issue a never ending supper of corned beef sandwiches and saffronhued cake, at the hands of Nye’s housekeeper, Mrs Munn, helped by Sloan's motherly wife, and the' wife and small daughter o ( f Jabez Grime, the station book-keeper. Incongruously Nell Nye would appear in low-necked evening dress, braving the gnats and mosquitoes in return for the admiration of the men and the rather startled jealousy of their scanty womenkind. She danced seldom, seeming to prefer attention as the purveyor of dance music of the ultra decadent type; the type which, however, even Onslowe—-slightly contemptuous and a good deal bored by the whole thing—wag forced to admit, was superlatively well played. Onslowe’s newly awakened perceptions were perplexing him not a little. He was finding a growing distaste for George Nye’s * inevitable coarseness, which as readily touched Nell as any other. Nye spoke of her candidly as a cunning little devil who touched all men on the raw of their virtue, with deliberate intent. “ A frockful of pink flesh and white powder,” was his loud description of her once, as they sat looking on at Nell’s flushed vigour. He added, with an admiring chuckle, as he felt of the slack skin of his jowl: “ I’m dammed if I know how she gets away with it. By God, David, when I was fust out of my teens . . .” Onslowe, looking sideways at this incredible father, interrupted quietly: " You’re mistaken. Mr Nye. Nell wants to give the hands a good time/ that’s all. I think she looks charming.” “Hell!” Nye exploded amicably. He clapped Onslowe on the back. . “ Isn’t that what .I said? What’s the use of a woman, anyhow, if she don’t act up to her sex ? I reckon if I was a girl I’d want to raise Sheol among the men.” It was in Onslowe’s mind to protest further by right of his position of accepted lover, but his jaws snapped together wordlessly. Nye knew nothing of that. And Onslowe reflected that by his promise to Nell he was bound not to enlighten her father. A week since he had characterised her insistence upon this as something rather slighting to his self respect. He could find no 'reason why Nye should not be told, and -his pride had been irked. Now realisation was coming slowly to him that he did pot wish to tell Nye. It was curious how indifferent to this factor of his engagement Onslowe had all at once become; He could find no trace of his - former eagerness to hear Nye’s bluff acceptance of big daughter’s future. For an absurd moment Onslowe wondered whether the whole thing was not merely a trick of his imagination. His cheeks reddened at that, as though he had caught himself openly belittling Nell’s affection. But it was remarkable how the thought had clung. Nye, cursing at the sweat that condensed on his cheeks, jarred Onslowe back to reality. “ There’s that young cub of a Cardew,

got up like a . slop-shop dummy,” the manager said. He pointed with his reeking cigar. “If he don’t watch out Nell 1 will make a fool of him. They tell me he rides in from the out station to these affairs. Damn it, of course he does, or how else would he be here. Watch him.” Onslowe saw that Chari was bpnding eagerly towards Nell, who was smiling half contemptuously. The boy’s manner wag excited. His hands moved nervously, and his hair was awry.’ And«presently, as if to some plea, Nell rose and took his arm. With a half glance at Onslowe she allowed Chari to lead her into the open. She called to Nye, as she passed: "It’s so hot inside, isn’t it? Chari’s trying to find me some fresh air.?’ "God’s truth!” Nye mumbled amusedly, “ that was like a play. But I never brought her up .to baby snatching, David. Maybe I’d better sack that youngster. It ‘nd be for his own good. I tell you she’d practise on anybody ... not meaning any harm, of course.”

" Of course,” Onslowe repeated, harshly emphatic.

He was filled with an angry disgust. Veil, he told himself, .was going a little t far with Chari Cardew. But he could have struck Nye for the inference of ■•hat-he had said. As though Nell were deliberately playing with the boy . . . especially after he had warned her of her inadvertence . . . Had Nye’s sneer been r true one it could not have hnrt Onslowe more on the girl’s behalf. It was preposterous . . . Onslowe’s anger was not for himself. He had no callow jealousy, he believed. His concern was for Chari . . . or, perhaps, it went beyond Chari. Nell couldn’t wound Chari without wounding Luce . . . more deeply still, so that it must be Luce at the genesis of his thought. And he had a sudden immeasurably sweet impression of her as he had seen her at first, with her lip caught between her teeth, and her intensely blue eyes searching his own. He had not realised until now how vivid she was, how dynamic the mere memory of her, how insistently lovely her revelation of self.

Onslowe gazed dully at Sloan, the foreman, who was none too soberly essaying to sing. Nye’s arrogant elbow was again prefacing upon his ribs the manager's interminable sarcasms.

" Damnation, David, you wouldn’t think, now would you, that I found that Spinifix a bag of bones . . . and look at him now. The poor devil—though he’s a good foreman, mind you—was down and out when I got him. He’d been growing peanuts and cotton on the Daly River, and all he did was to feed tire ’roos and pussoms, instead of himself.” “ Bad luck,” said Onslowe mechanically.

Suddenly restless he nodded to Nye and left the sheds. The open was a blue mist of moonlight, diaphanous and faintly vibrant. He could just discern in the distance the massed shadows where the ranges notched the sky. And his thought at once took shape about the delicate configuration of the dragonfly. He fancied himself at the window of Carey Cardew’s bedroom, gazing and marvelling, as when first the wonder of it had stirred his imagination, Luce’s cheek had been close to his ... he recalled how fragrant the warm zephyr of her breath ... as she pointed the way for his eyes. Her voice was a little awed; its cadence had the muffled charm of music hidden and reverently contained. " There, David ... To the right.” So clear the echo of her words now that Onslowe almost started. It was remarkable, he told himself irritably, how great credence Luce gave to the magic-mongering of her grandfather. The appearance of the dragonfly was the veriest illusion, of course. Still, if to beliqye otherwise brought some queer comfort to the girl, he supposed that something of method had survived old Carey Cardew’s madness. Voices sounding from close at hand reused him 'to seek temporary hidingin the cane grass and blade grass gunyah summerhouse which Nye had had built to Nell’s demand at a corner of the homestead plot. Onslowe was in no mood for casual conversation. It was only when he attended more closely that he recognised the approach of Nell and Chari Cardew. In -the circumstances he was more disinclined than ever to show himself. He felt that his temper was not proof, at the moment, against Nell’s absurd temporising with the ,boy’s illdisguised infatuation. It would be kinder, he thought, if she had less of pity for such calf-love antics, and made an end of Chari’s foolishness for once and all. In a way her conduct was inexcusable. Onslowe would have been in no wise concerned for aq older man versed in the methods of unmeaning dalliance. Nell, he believed, did not realise how seriously unsophisticated youth could respond to the insincerities of butterfly flirtation. Chari was exactly the sort of idiot to make trouble.

Onslowe realised suddenly that he was overhearing. He abhorred the role of eavesdropper, yet escape unseen was out of the question. Savagely he waited forthem to pass. To his consternation they halted within a yard of his shelter. Through the open oblong of 'the doorway he could see Chari lift his arms m awkward gesture. Onslowe went hot to hear the naked abandon in the furiously crowding words. “ Miss Nye—Nell—l know I’m mad, but I can’t help loving you. I loved you from the first time I saw you. You could have beaten me then—have killed me like a dog—like Barney was killed- — and I’d just have smiled—” “ Silly boy. Chari, I’m getting chiUcd. I mdst go in now; really, I must. Why, of course, I don’t mind your loving me. Only you mustn’t look so white and furious over it.” “ I’ll work—by God, you’ll see.” "Silly boy,” she said again. They passed on, leaving Onslowe to light a cigarette with shaking fingers. He

•said aloud presently: “ It’s a damned shame. I’ll talk to Nell to-night. Surely she must see things have gone too far. It was nearly an hour later before he found opportunity. Nell, yawning frankly, called to him from the press about the supper table. Her tone was peevish. David, what a bore your ankle wouldn’t let you dance. I believe you could have if you’d wanted to. Take me to the house. I’m asleep on my feet. Where’s father? ”

" Turned in long ago,” Onslowe said briefly. He felt her scrutiny as he turned to walk at her side. He wondered if his face was as grim as his mind. He felt almost that he hated her. Yet so subtle was her near presence that his mind almost immediately began to cloud to its old physical bewilderment. Her hand lay smoothly on hig arm. He looked down at the white fingers twining against the dark of his sleeve, with a queer sense of impotence. Just so the scent arid gi-'mour of her clung whitely against the dark of his anger, overpowering his reason with fingers of rushing thought. None the less he held to his resolution. Nell’s own interest demanded his candour, he assured himself.

He said stiltedly; " Dearest, I really think I would discourage Chari Cardew, if I were you. You Aon’t want fo hurt him. And he is so obviously in earnest. There’s a quite easy way of doing it, too.” “ David . . . for heaven’s sake, don’t start lecturing m e at this hour. I’m just dog tired. Put your arm about poor me.”

“ I’m not lecturing you, Nell. Of course, I know how tired you are. But I’m really anxious about young Cardew. You mustn’t go on '. '. . playing with him.* I know it isn’t that, really, but •_ • • well, that’s how it will seem to him, won’t it, later on? ” He expected anger, but instead she laughed. Her body leaned more heavily against him as they walked. David, you’re so funny. How can I help what Chari chooses to do? He amuses me.”

“ Exactly. The question is, is it quite fair? Dearest, all you need to do is to give out” our engagement. You can say, if you like, that it only happened tonight, and that will help to salve the young idiot’s pride.” "If you knew how tired I was . . .” she said suddenly. She halted and thrust both hands against his throat. “ David, how can you worry me in this way ? As if that Cardew brat mattered to you and me! D’you know you haven’t kissed me . . ”

Onslowe *bent over with tightening temples. On a mad impulse he lifted her bodily, crushing her in his arms, devouring her lips. “Good God! » . . Well, I’m kissing you now. What a beast I was to drag you back from sleep just to grumble at you! ” “ David, you’re smothering me. I can’t breathe. David, you do love me, don’t you ? ” “Let me tell the world that I do.” “ Put me down . . . please, David. Of course you shall. But not just for a while. I’d hate to have these yokels all snooping at us ... I detest vulgarity. Good night.” ' She slipped across the veranda with a low laugh. Onslowe, breathing heavily,

was making for' his Own quarters when a faint uproar from the direction of the sheds attracted his unwilling attention. It seemed to grow in volume as he listened. After a second of indecision he decided to investigate the cause. Someone, he thought light-headedly, might have met with an accident. Tliere was no knowing the outcome of these outback festivities. Men in the bush were more free of their likes and dislikes. They sometimes quarrelled on no pretext at all that an outsider could discover.

His suspicions of a fight in progress turned to certainty as he came in sight of the bunkhouse. The half moon was. setting, and its milky light was even then being replaced by torches of tightly twisted bark, held in none too steady hands. In the space thus illumined between the crush fence and an angle of the bunkhouse Chari Cardew, his face shredded bloodily, was rising uncertainly to h’s feet. Crouching opposite was the hotelkeeper from Birdseye, Martin Mohr, his squat body stripped to the waist, a wicked grin twisting his hairy mouth. Even as Onslowe looked Mohr drove his fist into the boy’s chin, snapping his head over, so that he fell on his back with sprawling limbs, and lay quivering. In the brutal laughter that followed Onslowe pushed his way to the centre of the group. His nerves were tingling. There was a light in his eye that the years since his college days had seldom seen. The foreman, Spinifex, was already lifting the boy s head to his knee. At recognition ot Onslowe he complained thickly:

“ I couldn’t stop them. Martin’s got most of his own crowd here, and if they take a fancy for murder, it ain’t the first time. Cripes! They’re a bloody lot in Birdseye, now you mark me!” “ What happened ? ” “ That blankard Martin gets to boasting there ain’t a woman in the district Mack couldn’t have, if he wanted her,” Spinifex mumbled fiercely. “He—you’ll heckscuse me, Mister Onslowe—he says Mack’s made a fall for Miss Nye already. Chari Cardew called ’im a lying cow. Ratty was the word for ’im. And Martin peels off and dongs ’im like ’you seen.”

Onslowe said bleakly, “ I see. Put something under the boy’s head. What’s this 1 ”

A scrawny hand was pushing a small flask of brandy at him. He looked up to see a little runt of a man, with open, flaccid mouth and a filament of yellow beard, on hands and knees at his side. A blast of alcoholic breath burnt his face, -•

“ Give ’im a sip er this, won’t yer 7 ” a querulous voice insisted. Good speerits don’t ’arm no one.” “ Get Chari into the hut,” Onslowe said, ' pushing the brandy in turn to the foreman. “ He’s only stunned, I think.”

He was already on his feet, searchingfpr Martin Mohr. The hotelkeeper, as though sensing Onslowe’s hostility, was staring at him -with drunken insolence. With his face and chest sprouting a forest of sweating black hair, and the simian crouch of his naked shoulders, Mohr was singularly repulsive. Onslowe’s mouth set in a straight line. He

walked up to the man and tapped hini deliberately on the arm.

“What was the idea of knocking that boy about 7 ” he asked in a clear voice. Mohr’s reply was a violent shove. The flat of his squat hand caught Onslow® at the base of the chin, sending hint sprawling and furious. As he came upright Mohr’s jeering rejoinder rang in his cars. ... .

“What the hell’s that to do with - you. Mister Sticky-beak 7 ” Onslowe smashed thoconeluding words with a lightning cross to tho man’s mouth. He gave way lightly as Mohr rushed at him bellowing. The crowd scattered, leaving them the centre of a vicious circle. Onslowe thought: “I’m in for it; but I don’t care.” His own. fury was at white heat. He drew in his breath sharply, his nerves and muscles tautening :a readiness for what was to * come.

At the very moment of impact, as it were, there came an extraordinary intervention.. On the heels of a sudden yell of warning a faggot of rock, the size of a man’s doubled fists, hurtled over the heads of the crowd like a meteor. It struck Mohr squarely on the nape of the" neck, carrying his body forwards and downwards. He fell almost at Onslowe’s feet, his limbs still jerking their fury', and an evil red stream trickling down his back.

Onslowe stood dumbfounded. The crowd, he saw, were as nonplussed as himself. It was impossible, as it transpired, to fasten the outrage on any particular man. The happening was so entirely unexpected that its conclusion found them a muddle of angry bewilderment. Someone had rolled the stricken hotelkeeper over on his side. Onslowe caught his breath with a sense of relief as Mohr’s eyes opened. Friends pulled the man to a sitting position, where he sagged with champing jaws, striving blasphemously for expression. He was toq sick, however, to do more than spit in Onslowe’s direction. And presently he was being carried to the waiting buggy alive, but a mere present impotence of angry flesh. A voice from the shadows drawled: “Cripes! He got his.” Almost immediately the tension was relaxed. Someone laughed. Onslowe, feeling somehow as though he had been cheated, shrugged his shoulders and began to walk wearily back to the house. He inquired of Spinifex as he passed, “ How’s young Cardew 7 ”

“ Nothing wrong but a headache,” the foreman rejoined. His face was sober. But as Onslowe vanishes from sight a slow grin curved Spinifex’s lips. He looked stealthily to right and left as he sought to fill' his pipe. He muttered beneath his breath—lingering on the words with almost unction: “Strike me fat! What a fair dinkurn knock-out. Cripes, Souse . . . I seen yer. Too right, I did. Yer little boozy devil, yer mighter killed the cow. But what a beaut! I wouldn’t let on for worlds. Serve the hairy blighter right.” ° (To be continued.)