When Hugh came home one day with his face, as usual, full of trouble,
Mary began to laugh him out of it.
"Well, Mr. Hugh, which is it to-day--the Doyles or the Donohoes?
Have they been stealing sheep or breaking gates?"
"Oh, it's all very well for you to laugh," he said; "you don't
understand. Some of that gang up the river went into the stud paddock
yesterday to cut down a tree for a bee's nest, and left the tree
burning; might have set the whole run--forty thousand acres of dry
grass--in a blaze. Then they drove their dray against the gate,
knocking it sideways, and a lot of the stud sheep got out into the
other paddock, and I'll have to be off at day-break to-morrow to
get 'em back."
"Why don't you summon the wretches, and have them put in gaol, or
go and break their gates, and cut down their trees?" she said, with
a cheerful ignorance of details.
"I daren't--simply daren't. If I summoned one of them, I'd never
have dry grass but there'd be fires. I'd never have fat sheep but
there'd be dogs among 'em. They ride all over the run; but if a bird
belonging to the station flew over one of their selections they'd
summon me for trespass. There's no end to the injury a spiteful
neighbour can do you in this sort of country. And your father would
blame me."
"Why?"
"Oh, it's part of the management of a station to get on with your
neighbours. Never quarrel if you can help it. But since shearing
troubles started we have no friends at all."
"Well," she said, "I should like to have a look at those desperate
neighbours I hear so much about. Red Mick Donohoe rode past the
other day on such a beautiful horse, and he opened the gate for us,
and asked if he might come down to hear me sing. Think of that,
now."
"Very well," he said. "We'll go for a ride up that way to-morrow
afternoon. We might find Red Mick killing some of our sheep, and
you can go into the box as the lady detective. If you'll only sing
him into gaol, the station will pay you at the same rate as Patti
gets!"
Next afternoon they cantered away up the river towards the mountains.
Poss and Binjie had long ago laid their dearest possessions at
her feet, begging her to ride them--horses so precious that it had
hitherto been deemed sacrilege to put a side-saddle on them. She
had the divine gift of "hands," and all manner of excitable, pulling
horses went quietly and smoothly under her management. Her English
training had taught her to ride over jumps, and she was very anxious
to have a try at post-and-rail fences.