An Outback Marriage by Banjo Paterson (the mitten read aloud TXT) 📕

in the talk, and Gavan Blake felt that a walk in the moonlight might give him a chance to make himself a little more at home with Mary Grant, while Ellen Harriott had her own reasons for wanting to get him outside. With laughter and haste they all put on hats and coats, for it had turned bitterly cold; then with ear-piercing whistles the children summoned their ’possuming dogs, who were dreaming happy hours away in all sorts of odd nooks, in chimney-corners, under the table in the kitchen, under the bunks in the men’s hut, anywhere warm and undisturbed. But at the whistles each dog dashed out from his nook, tearing over everything in front of him in his haste not to be left behind; and in three seconds half a dozen of them were whining and jumping round the children, waiting for orders which way to go.

A majestic wave of the hand, and the order “Go and find him!” from the eldest of the children, sent a hurricane of dogs yapping with excitement off to the creek, and the hunters followed at a brisk run. Gavan Blake and Mary Grant trotted along together in the bright moonlight. Just in front were Ellen and Hugh, he laughing at the excitement of the dogs and children, she looking over her shoulder and hoping to hear what Blake was saying to the heiress. As a matter of fact, he was making the most of his chances, and before long they were getting on capitally. Mary found herself laying aside her slow English way, and laughing and joking with the rest. There is something intoxicating in moonlight at any time; and what with the moon and the climate, and the breeze whistling through the gum-boughs, it was no wonder that even the staidly-reared English girl felt a thrill of excitement, a stirring of the primeval instincts that civilization and cultivation had not quite been able to choke.

“When you go back to England, Miss Grant,” said Blake, “you will be able to tell them that you have hunted ’possums, anyhow. That will sound like the real bush, won’t it?”

“Yes. And I can say I have been upset in a river and nearly drowned, too. I’m becoming quite an experienced person. But what makes you think I shall go back to England?”

“I thought you would be sure to go back.”

“Oh, no. We have no friends in England at all. My mother’s people are nearly all living in India, and father wouldn’t live in England. He hates it.”

“And do you like Australia?”

“I’ve only seen about a week of it. Do you know, it seems to me a more serious life than in England. Look at Mrs. Gordon, what a lot of people she has dependent on her. The station-hands and their wives, all come to her. In England she might visit them and give them tracts and blankets, but here what they want is advice and help in all sorts of things. You know what I mean?”

“Yes. She is a fine old lady, isn’t she? A real character. You will be sure to like her.”

“Yes. I think I shall be very happy here. Father is anxious I should like this place, as he may come up here to live, and I’m sure I shall like it. You see, there is work to do here. Miss Harriott and Mrs. Gordon are at work from daylight till dark; what with the children, the house, the store and visitors, there really isn’t time to feel lonely. Don’t you think people are much happier when they have a lot to do? Do you live⁠—”

“I live in two rooms and get my meals at an hotel, Miss Grant. I have never had any home life. I never knew what it meant till now.”

“You must come out again when you are down this way. The⁠—what’s that?”

A dog barked furiously in the distance, and the others rushed to join him from all directions, yelping and squealing with excitement. The whole party set off at a run, amid cheers and laughter.

“What is it, what is it?” said Mary.

“One of the dogs has found a ’possum up a tree, and the children will try to get him down. Come on! Mind where you go. The black shadows are very hard to judge, and sometimes a log or a bush is hidden in them. There goes Poss over a log,” he added, in explanation of a terrific crash and a shout of laughter from the others. “What is it, Emily?” he asked as one of the children ran past.

“It’s Thomas Carlyle has found one,” she said, “and he never barks when the ’possums are up big trees. He knows we can’t get them then, so he only looks in the saplings. The other dogs find them in the big trees, but that’s no good.”

A sharp run brought the party to the foot of a small tree, surrounded by a circle of dogs, all sitting on their tails and staring with whimpers of anxiety up to the topmost branches, where a small furry animal was perched. Mary Grant, under Blake’s directions, got the animal silhouetted against the moon, and saw clearly enough the sharp nose, round ears, plump body, and prehensile tail of the unfortunate creature who, as Poss said, looked as if he were wishing for a pair of wings.

Blake turned to Mary. “Do you want to stop and see it killed?” he said. “It’s rather a murderous business. The ’possum has no chance. One of the boys will go up the tree and shake the branch till the ’possum falls off, and when it falls the dogs will kill it.”

“No, I don’t think I would like to see it. I have seen so many things killed since I came here. Let us walk back towards the house.”

“I’ll tell Gordon. Gordon,” he said, “Miss Grant doesn’t care to see the massacre. We will walk back towards the house.”

Ellen Harriott made a sudden step forward. “I will go