They Found a Cave (11 page)

‘No, but—they say—'

‘They say—? What do they say? Let them say! Well, I must be moving along. Don't lose yourselves on the track home. Do you carry matches?'

‘Yes,' said Tas, patting a pocket.

‘Good,' approved the old man. ‘Never go far in the bush without them.'

In a few more minutes they were watching his ancient felt hat bobbing away, the wisp of white hair that stuck out of the hole in the crown waving good-bye to them with every step he took.

 

It was not then—though oddly enough it might easily have been—that Cherry made her discovery. Had she been less concerned with a feeling of hunger as she plodded along and climbed the Cock's Spur with aching legs, she might have noticed something that day. She did remember once looking over her shoulder, and noticing the cradle of a tiny creek right in the lap of the hill up on the Spur. It was dry except for one small pool in a rocky basin which flashed like a jewel in the sun. At the time she had no breath left to comment, and Tas, who was leading, rather strangely failed to point out this interesting feature, though he was staring in the same direction.

It all passed out of mind until chance took her a few weeks later up the Spur from the cave's side, in search of goats. She found them nibbling the reddish shoots of some peppermint gums, and started them for home. Then, having nothing particular to do till milking time, she left them to meander along alone, while she explored the Spur. In a few minutes she was at the top and the great view burst upon her. She could see to the far ranges across a huge expanse of valley, and she could see also, close at hand, something glinting like a silver cup and knew she was looking down at the pool down in its bed of rock. She was so near that she could see the ripples chase each other as a light breeze stroked its face.

Cherry climbed forward on a jutting crag and searched for a foothold, but there was no way down the steep wall over which she leaned. She stared longingly at the pool; it looked so inviting—surely, surely there was a track leading to it? If only she could manage to get down! Yes, there
was
a track, made by sheep or wombats. It zig-zagged right to the water's edge. She stared again, feeling oddly excited, but could find no way to descend from her ledge.

Then she recalled the Giant Steps in what had seemed to them at first an unbroken wall. This gave her heart to search afresh, and suddenly she noticed something on a small ledge on her right. It was nothing very much, only a tiny scrap of blue and white paper in fact, yet it instantly reminded her of a similar piece in an old man's hands as he unwrapped his special chocolate.

‘Man has been this way before,' she grinned, her mind working swiftly. ‘So this is where Mad Dad has been coming. Perhaps it's his track down to the pool?' And she puzzled to herself why he should choose to come here. ‘Must be those shrimps of his he's after—or—I know! He's discovered gold in the creek and washes it down at that pool.'

Wildly excited, she was about to rush back and astonish them all with her news, when she discovered something else about the ledge to her right; it led down a deep cleft which could not be seen from above. Scrambling down, she reached an arch of stone, made by a mass of fallen boulders, and passing easily underneath this came out on a well-worn track leading down to the pool. Something stopped her from exploring further without the others, and she turned back to fetch them to share the fun.

The goats were idling on their homeward way. She shoo'd them on, eager to reach the cave with her sensational news, but before she had got as far as the tarn she ran into Tas, busy splitting firewood.

‘What's up?' he enquired, with a glance at her flushed face. ‘You look as if you'd shoved your head in a bee tree?'

‘Listen, Tas,' she began importantly, only wishing the others were there to be impressed too, ‘I've found out something.
If
you want to know where old Mad Dad went off to those nights when he wouldn't stay in the cave—remember?—well, as it happens
I
can tell you.'

She paused for effect, and certainly Tas was staring at her with satisfactory interest.

Then he grinned. ‘No,' he said, ‘I don't want to know, thanks. As it happens I know already.'

‘
Tas
,' she exclaimed, open-eyed with astonishment. ‘Then—then why didn't you tell us if you knew all the time?'

‘Not my business—not so nosey as some! Oh, sorry, kid!' He put out a hand to stop her as she flung off with flaming cheeks. ‘Don't go. I didn't mean that for you, I swear I didn't. You see you've hit on a secret, and it's not
my
secret. All the same…reckon I'll have to tell you, now you know so much.'

He paused, frowning, and thoughtfully scratched an ear.

‘You can trust me not to give away a secret,' said Cherry quickly.

‘Yeah, I know—but…'

‘Anyhow,' she added, ‘I don't think you need bother to tell me. I thought it out for myself. Mad Dad's got the secret, hasn't he? And I know what it is. He's found a little dry creek, but—
there
'
s gold in it.
That's where he goes and what he does, isn't it? Washes out the gold.'

‘No,' answered Tas, ‘it's not. Only wish it was. Now sit down and I'll tell you.' He swept away the chips on a stump and drove his axe into the side, before joining her. They could see some of the goats slaking their thirst at the tarn; others were already at the milking cave and the sound of their bells was muffled. A robin hopped near the stump where Cherry sat, and eyed with longing a white grub close to her hand.

‘Remember one night when we first came to the cave,' Tas began, ‘we was yarning away, waiting for the moon to rise? It was full moon and we went down after on our first raid—and got two chooks.'

‘Yes, I do. Nig made up the Raiding Song on the way home, and we got some young green peas and—'

‘Yes, but first we sat round skiting—remember? I told you about a poor bloke lost in the bush, and how they searched and searched, and at last they come on 'im; poor chap, he was dead.'

‘Yes, I remember. It was somewhere out this way, wasn't it, that you said you found him?'

‘It wasn't me that found him, Cherry. It was my Dad, see—he found him.'

‘I thought you said it was you.'

‘Look, Cherry, I may have said so that night. I was talking wild. Dunno why I started telling you all about that chap—only the moon was full—like it was the night he was found, see? And there I was in the cave with you all, and wondering if I could somehow give you the slip when we went raiding…'

‘Tas, what are you talking about? And what's it all got to do with Mad Dad?'

‘That's wot I'm telling you. See, I knew Mad Dad would be where you've come from, over the Spur, and I wanted to get to him without your knowing. See, I had to warn him we'd gone to live in Old Jim's Cave, for I guessed he used it for sleeping himself now and then. What would you all have done if he'd just walked in one night? Besides—'

‘Besides,' chuckled Cherry, ‘what would
he
have thought if he'd stumbled on a lot of sleeping goats?'

‘Matter of fact it
was
your goats wot found him in the end. I was too sleepy to go out again after the raid and look for him that night. Then next day, remember, we was building the wall. And you come along in a stew saying the goats had gone. “Cunning brutes,” I sez to meself when I hears that, “they must have seen Mad Dad and bin scared of a stranger and cleared out.” So I left you and Nippy, and slipped off to see if I could find the old man and bring him in, remember?'

‘Yes. That's why Nippy couldn't find you. But
why
, Tas? Why all this? I mean—he was your friend. And we showed him we liked him, didn't we, when you did bring him along?'

‘See, Cherry, it's like this…' Tas thoughtfully scratched his ear again as he sought for words. ‘You promise you'll never tell no one, don't you?'

‘Of course!'

‘See, that chap I told you about, that was Mad Dad's only brother that died of hunger on the ranges.'

‘Oh, Tas!'

‘Yeah. He thought he'd be clever and take a short cut, and the poor bloke must hev lost himself in a storm. Easy enough to do, and it was winter, like I told you, and snow about up here. It was my Dad that found him; everyone was out searching, but no one only Dad went over the Spur. He found him with his face in the pool of water down there, and fetched Mad Dad.'

‘You mean—you mean the pool I've just seen?'

‘That's right. And Mad Dad—well, he wasn't queer before that night but—but afterwards he was. Some say there'd been a row between them about some girl, but I don't reckon it was that. Only you mustn't
never
let on to him that you know anything about it.'

‘Of course I won't.'

‘No, but—I mean
nobody
must. That's what my Dad told me, and I swear I've bin careful. I was only a nipper at the time it happened, but sometimes I fancy the old chap knows Dad told me; he often looks at me so queer. Yet I always make out I reckon it's for his old prawns he comes this way every full moon.'

‘Why every full moon?'

‘Oh, the moon was full in a clear sky the night he was found, see? Now the old chap's a bit touched it seems he's jest got to come back and hang around here every clear night of the full moon. Seems like he can't fergit it all.'

They neither spoke for some time, busy with their own thoughts.

At last Tas looked up. ‘They've bin yelling for us down at the cave,' he remarked without moving.

Cherry sighed. It was so dreadful about dear old Mad Dad, and now everything was spoiled; she couldn't even burst in with a lump of sensational news. Why was it she never quite managed to pull things off? If it had been Brick or Nippy they would surely have come dashing into the cave, and everyone would have crowded round to listen. But these were shocking thoughts when she ought only to be feeling sorry, and she was so sorry for poor Mad Dad.

Hastily she asked if he would be there again at the next full moon?

‘You bet! Though he may not come to see us. Might think it looked a bit odd, perhaps. I reckon the moon after he'll be along, if we're still about.'

He heaved his sack of wood on his back and led the way through the scrub to the cave, with the whole subject finished and shut away between them for ever.

It was just as Tas said; the moon waned, and waxed to the full again without Mad Dad appearing. Spring waned, too, and summer came hurrying along with Christmas in its train. It was very odd to think of Christmas in the height of summer, so odd that only Tas took it seriously as quite natural.

The cave routine began to change. Work was done best in the early morning hours, and when the sun grew high it was pleasant to rest in the cool heart of the cave. Meals became more simple, sometimes merely lettuce and scone, washed down with water from the tarn, since it remained sweet and the tea supply was nearly done. They sprawled outside to eat if it was not too hot, basking on the warm rocks and teasing the lizards that came panting from the cracks.

As summer advanced their eyes began to seek gratefully the thick greenery of wild cherry, or a bright young sapling among the tall, thin gums. Some of these gums were covered in white blossom, but it was not always easy to pick them out from others which merely shimmered in the sunshine. Brick said he could smell honey from the mouth of the cave, and Tas taught them how to look out for a bee tree, though they never had the luck to find one.

One hot afternoon they were all in the cave feeling lazy.

‘Look,' called Nippy, ‘here comes Joe Whitty for his dinner.' Tas had introduced them to Whistling Dick—he said Mad Dad called him a Whistling Thrush Shrike—and now the grey bird was a constant visitor. He was giving his lovely full-throated call outside and it was answered by his mate.

‘Here's Joe Whitty—Joe Whitty—Joe Whitty!' he sang, and from a stump on the hillside came the reply, ‘R-rachel! Rachel! R-r-Rachel!'

Both birds came hopping along Nigel's wall—which they seemed to think had been built specially for them—and Joe cocked his head impatiently for scraps. They played being shy when the food was placed for them, but quickly rushed back to it with a joyous song of thanks.

Suddenly the note changed. Joe ruffled the dovegrey feathers of his chest and plumped up the brownish ones along his back as he worked himself into a rage. The gay whistling turned to a furious screech.

‘He sees Fluffles,' said Brick. ‘Go it, Joe! Swear at him, then.'

Joe was certainly enjoying himself. He flew close and perched above the cat's head, looking down and daring him to spring. Fluffles pretended to ignore him, till suddenly his claws shot out. He got no satisfaction beyond an odd grey feather, and Joe was so triumphant that his enemy put on the disdainful look cats keep for such occasions and stalked out of the cave.

‘What I can't think,' said Nippy, as he followed to console his pet, ‘is how the birds
know
Fluffles is an enemy. They can't have seen a cat in a cave before?'

‘Well, for that matter, how do they know
we
are friends? They can't have seen people living in a cave before, and besides we eat parrots and jays when we can get 'em.'

As Nippy reached the outer cave Cherry called after him that he might as well look for the goats before he came back. There was a laugh when he agreed instantly instead of protesting that it was not his turn. For today was Nippy's birthday, and though they all pretended to have forgotten it, it was clear he himself judged that the time had come to be absent from any preparations they might be making to celebrate.

‘Good,' said Cherry, ‘that's got rid of him, and it's cool enough now to make up a roaring fire to roast the meat.'